Crash-landed
by avtorSola
Summary: Aizen and the Fullbringers were both defeated, so everything seems to be going just fine for one Hitsugaya Toushiro. Until he falls onto the Helicarrier, that is. But how does Thor know he's a Shinigami? Who is SHIELD? Why is Loki trying to conquer Earth? And more importantly...what is the Kismet? For heaven's sake, he just got done with Aizen! First in my Seventh Stone universe!
1. Meeting -Sort of

**A/N** : Will move to M for language - Toushiro's a very salty character when he wants to be. Post Aizen/Fullbring, Ignoring Vandenreich. Likely will continue this universe, but in the beginning it's simply the collision of Avengers and shinigami. One shinigami in particular.

 _"_ _Thoughts"_ _"_ _~Artificial Communications~"_ _"_ _Zanpakutou speaking"_ ** _"_** ** _Japanese"_**

 _Prologue_

He was falling too fast to control his descent.

A strained, fluttering smirk lit Hitsugaya's pale face as he plummeted kilometers at a time, the ice which was trying to stem the flow of blood chipping away as he tumbled towards the faraway skin of his beloved jade planet. His wings had crumbled long ago, when he'd carved through the stupid leftover Arrancar's blasted Resurrecion and slaughtered the pitiful invader. It was his job to defend the World of the Living, and he'd rather be damned to suffer hell's fire for a thousand lifetimes than be kept from doing his sworn duty. But he hadn't received permission for the Gentei Kaijo, the Limiter Release, until after the Arrancar had clawed his side, sending him into a haze of blood loss. It was in this state that he'd lunged and slain his opponent. Now he was in free fall from his battleground above the clouds. The wounds he'd received would likely kill him before he reached the ground, if the blood beginning to seep through cracks in his melting ice meant anything, and there was nobody who could catch him. He'd been sent through the Senkaimon alone.

But he'd gone down victorious.

The daffodil-shaped seal on his chest still shone there, like a dark tattoo just over his heart, but he knew releasing it would have no effect. His reiatsu had already sunk well below the 20% mark. What he had now was all he had left.

It was hard to breathe while falling, he thought, his blurring, slowing mind growing pleasantly fuzzy. He was close to passing out, and the pain that had previously accompanied the claw-marks in his side was fading away. He struggled to concentrate. The Earth's verdant surface was still a distant, intangible idea. If he lost consciousness now, he'd likely only have another ten to fifteen minutes before his heartbeat failed.

Perhaps he would die on the Earth's surface after all.

But then, without even the slightest inkling of a warning, something impossibly hard like metal or stone slammed into his back with enough force to shatter every bone in a human's body. Odd, considering that he hadn't seen anything below him a moment ago.

But then Toushiro's head cracked against stone and stars blossomed across his vision. He blacked out.

* * *

The ship shuddered in the air, rocking for just the briefest moment before the pilots managed to steady the flight path. But that brief disturbance was enough to set everyone on edge. Loki had only just been imprisoned in the cage made for the Hulk – should he have broken free of Banner's control – and now something unknown had collided with the left side of their airship's runway.

Nick Fury paused from his position at the bridge of the ship, stiffening in both surprise and anticipation. Was it a rescue attempt already? Or had Loki set some sort of trap? Neither were options he wanted to consider, but they seemed like the only possible scenarios that made any sort of sense. He cursed under his breath, glancing back into the oblong meeting room just behind him, where Thor, Stark, Rogers, Banner and Agent Romanoff had been waiting, discussing Loki's unknown motivations. They were already moving out, likely heading towards the nearest door that would grant them access to the concrete runway.

Or, at least, Rogers was moving and Thor was striding effortlessly after him. Stark seemed too interested in inane chatter with Banner – who was wisely staying inside – to possibly be contemplating running after the WWII captain. And Agent Romanoff, who had since reappeared among the computers down below, was attempting to get a visual of the area where they'd been hit.

At least four out of five were on task – even if Thor wasn't technically answerable to them, given that he was from Asgard.

Suddenly one of the men monitoring the ship's systems called out from below, his voice laced with a touch of disbelief.

"Sir, Agent Romanoff has visual and audio from Captain Rogers!" he said. Fury took a step forward, noticing the man's stunned hesitation.

"Well, what's the situation?" he demanded. "Don't stand there like a gaping idiot. Pull it up so we can all see, and open communications with Rogers."

The man did as he was told, and a sharp color picture popped up on each of the luminous computer screens. Fury stood almost speechless for a moment, and then Rogers's voice echoed through the vast room, sounding somewhat panicked – unusual for him – and more than a little startled.

"~ _Sir, are you seeing this?_ ~" he asked. "~ _Because I'm really hoping that this is some sort of nightmare._ ~"

Through the visual feed, Fury could see that whatever had hit them had left a shallow crater in the concrete, though the damage was more superficial than anything else. And besides this crater, the windswept runway was empty. There was no sign of any enemy action whatsoever. The scene was innocuous and clearly not hostile. But the truly horrific part of the images on screen was the expression of unadulterated concern and considerable fear on Thor's face and the limp form he cradled gently in his strong arms.

A child's body.

"I see it, Captain." he said heavily. For a moment, Rogers said nothing, but when he again spoke, it was to Thor that his words were addressed.

"~ _Thor, is he breathing?_ ~"

For a moment, there was silence, but then the lightning demigod nodded a confirmation. For the first time, Fury saw the long sword strapped to the boy's back and the dark crimson liquid dripping slowly from the sheathed blade.

"~ _Yes, though I fear he will not be so for much longer. This child needs immediate medical attention if he is to have any hope of surviving his wounds._ ~" the hammer-wielding alien said seriously.

Fury studied the unconscious child's unusual clothing and exotic features with a keen eye, noting that the child was wearing something distinctly Oriental in fashion – and that the white, coat-like garment was blotched with a spreading scarlet stain. A rapidly spreading stain.

"Get him inside." the SHIELD director said, making an executive decision. "I'll ready a medical team. But for God's sake, one of you stays with that kid. If he can make a dent in solid stone and metal with nothing but his skin and a few layers of cloth then he's definitely not your average teenager. And confiscate that sword of his. Understood?"

"~ _Understood, sir. We're coming back in._ ~"

Agent Romanoff shut down the live feed as Captain Rogers and Thor sped back inside. Then she stood, her face as masklike as ever and looked at Fury with something like a challenge in her cold glare.

"I'm heading up to speak with Captain Rogers and Thor." She said calmly. "And I'll take the kid's weapon while I'm at it."

Fury made no move to forbid her from doing so, so she ran up the metal stairs and disappeared into the depths of the ship. Having the Russian woman there would be a great help in gaining the boy's trust, especially if he turned out to be a civilian accidentally caught up in forces that he didn't understand. Natasha was very good at being the kind one. But somehow, Nick Fury didn't think that would be the case.

After all, how many preteens carried swords around on their backs?


	2. Discussion: Who ARE you?

The first thing he noticed was that he was alive. And the second thing that he noticed was that – besides being alive – his side hurt like hell, though he was sure it wasn't nearly as painful as it should be.

 _"_ _I was rescued?"_ he thought blearily, trying to put the fractured pieces back together in his mind's eye. _"No…I fell onto something hard and blacked out. So where am I? And who healed me?"_

Slowly the world around him faded into hypersharp clarity, and he became aware of the fact that he was lying down on a soft bed, covered with a thin blanket. His arms and legs were strapped down with scratchy cloth bands, but he didn't dare test them – he could sense several reiatsus close by, and he didn't want to alert them to his presence of mind yet. So he lay still, exploring his surroundings as much as he could without sight or movement. The room around him was warm, as was the dull pain of a tube inserted in the underside of his arm, and he could hear voices speaking above him.

He concentrated; keeping his eyes closed for appearances' sake, and tried to decipher the language. After a few moments, he realized his saviors, whoever they were, were English-speakers, and American-English speakers at that, if he judged by the accents they were using. With this in mind, he listened hard, trying to gain some clue as to whom had decided to minister to his wounds. Most of the voices he could hear seemed masculine, and one of those masculine voices seemed unusually contrary. The others, who were attempting to placate him, seemed calmer, and all but one of these voices were distinctly muffled, as if far away.

Suddenly a woman spoke, her voice harsh and obviously impatient.

"Stark, if you, Dr. Banner, and Thor would kindly leave." She snapped brusquely. "Nothing personal, but you three are the least likely to reassure the kid of his safety once he awakens. Director Fury and I have direct experience with these sorts of scenarios. And Captain Rogers's presence is likely to have a calming effect. Plus, Captain Rogers will be the least likely to harm the boy should he struggle. Thor, I could say the same of you, but you have a tendency to lose your temper more easily than Rogers does, and your mannerisms are the slightest bit unconventional on Earth."

Toushiro raised a mental eyebrow at the carefully crafted plan, mulling over the implication of this caution with a growing sense of wariness. What had he stumbled upon? And better yet – how could these _people_ see him?

Damned humans, screwing with everything.

"Look, you do realize you've put him in both ankle and wrist restraints, don't you? I think he'll struggle no matter what you do. And if what Bruce said about that kid's sword has any bearing on what the kid himself can do, then you're royally screwed. Just my opinion." A sardonic, dry voice commented in a deprecating manner. "I can at least make a half-decent wisecrack, which could put him at ease so he doesn't try to, you know, kill us all."

"You're also incredibly useless without your tin suit." A second man was now speaking, his tone flat. "I'm here because if he does turn out to be hostile, I can overpower him. Hopefully without worsening his injuries – the poor boy's already been through enough. Now, if you're done, you can head to the room next door with Agent Coulson to watch and listen."

Sudden silence fell, and with a brief shuffling of feet and the clunking sound of a bolt sliding into a lock, three of the men's voices faded away and then disappeared completely. For several long minutes – just around an hour, Hitsugaya thought – no words were spoken. But finally, a deep, dry voice that Hitsugaya hadn't heard earlier broke the relative quiet.

"Captain Rogers, what was the full report on the boy's condition?"

Slowly, Hitsugaya put the voices with the names. This was Director Fury. The woman…he didn't know yet. And the second man was Captain Rogers – the one who'd been assigned for security purposes.

"Three parallel slash wounds on his left side. The deepest nearly cut two inches into his stomach. But they were all sewed and bandaged up without much trouble, and the doctors gave him a good number of transfusions with blood substitute. He's pretty heavily drugged with painkiller right now though. I doubt he'll be fully coherent."

"What could have given him wounds like that?"

It was the woman again; her voice concerned this time, though the hint of agitation in her tone did not fade.

"I don't know. The doctor said his injuries reminded them of claw marks, but the claws that made the slashes in this boy's side would have to belong to an animal at least three times the kid's height. And I don't know of any predator that size."

Again, silence fell, though this silence had a considerable heaviness to it that the previous one did not. And Hitsugaya decided it was time to officially surface from the black murk of oblivion. He shifted slightly, then groaned as a throb of protest rolled through his lean body. _Ouch._ Slowly, he opened his eyes, wincing as the bright, sterile lights pierced his retinas. For several seconds, everything was blurry and out of focus, but then he blinked, trying to clear his aching head, and he saw a woman leaning over him, her forehead wrinkled with concern.

"Are you alright?" she asked him cautiously, gently touching the pulse point beneath his jaw with two fingers. He stared at her, allowing his expression to contort into both confusion and slight panic. Then he made as if to lift his hand. But the stiff cloth tying him down prevented him from moving. He jerked, eyes widening, and strained against the band of scratchy material with the barest amount of his strength; about the same amount as a thirteen-year-old would possess.

 ** _"_** ** _Wuz goin' on?"_** he slurred in a storm of confused panic, affecting the look of a terrified young man as he swept a practiced eye over the small room, taking note of the sealed door and the mirrored window stretched along the wall behind the three adults that sat by the narrow bed he lay in. The wall behind him he couldn't see, but he assumed it was an actual window, judging by the light pouring in from that direction. The woman's eyes widened at his panic, drawing his attention.

"Shh. Shh." She said, quickly pinning his shoulders to the bed, her blue gaze locking onto his jade stare.

 ** _"_** ** _Easy. It's okay, we're friends. We're not going to harm you."_** She said calmly, effortlessly switching into Japanese. He blinked, allowing fright to steal across his face, but obediently stopped fighting her.

 ** _"_** ** _Wh-What's going on?"_** he repeated, his words more clear this time, though his breaths were still quick and shallow. **_"Why…why am I tied down? Where am I?"_**

She offered him a smile, and he focused on the expression with unnatural intensity, realizing that her build was almost as svelte as his. She was clearly experienced with combat, and the ease with which she was attempting to pick apart his scared façade suggested high levels of intelligence training – he'd have to watch his step around her. It had been a long time since he'd been in the Second Division.

 ** _"_** ** _You were seriously injured. We managed to stitch you up, but we were afraid you might hurt yourself or aggravate your wounds if you panicked, hence the restraints. We didn't mean to frighten you."_**

He relaxed slowly, unwillingly, and then allowed himself to whimper softly as his wounded side wrenched with hot pain.

 ** _"_** ** _I…Thank you."_** he told her weakly. Suddenly he had a thought, and he let his face become somewhat sulky and more than a little defiant. ** _"And…And I wasn't scared. I…I was just…I was just…surprised."_**

Suddenly the unknown woman smiled again, the curling of her lips filled with just a bit of genuine warmth.

 ** _"_** ** _Of course."_** she agreed calmly. **_"Just a moment. My companions do not speak Japanese, and I need to relay your words. Do you speak English?"_**

He shook his head, hoping he could still conceal the lie in his face with the skill he used to have. Heaven knows Matsumoto could always see through him. But the unknown woman seemed to buy it, and she turned to the two men, quickly relaying a translation of their conversation. The man without an eyepatch looked at him, a hint of a smile curling his mouth into a friendly expression that reminded Hitsugaya somewhat of Ukitake.

"Ask him what his name is, Agent Romanoff." He said to the woman, and Hitsugaya filed the name away for later, trying to look as if he wasn't listening.

 ** _"_** ** _Do you have a name, kid?"_** Agent Romanoff asked him in the same calm tone she'd used earlier. He nodded.

 ** _"_** ** _Hitsugaya Toushiro."_** He told her. **_"What about you and your friends?"_**

She told him, and he finally managed to put a face with each of the names he'd heard earlier. Slowly, his eyes narrowed. He'd already realized that these three were affiliated with some sort of military organization. Each had a gun on their hip; likely for use on him should he attack.

 ** _"_** ** _Can you tell us how you got here, Toushiro?"_** Agent Romanoff's voice broke him from his reverie, and he looked at her, smiling wryly.

 ** _"_** ** _Where's here?"_** he asked. **_"I actually have no idea where I am. The last thing I remember is hitting my head."_**

 ** _"…_** ** _Ah. I don't know if I can tell you that. I'll ask."_**

She turned to Fury and Rogers, entering a brief debate about 'how much' they should tell him. And the conversation quickly became extremely interesting. He heard several references to 'classified' information, including an incredibly powerful object called a 'Tesseract' and a man who apparently wanted to anoint himself king over the entire human race. He listened with growing trepidation, his concern peaking when he learned the man in question was imprisoned on the ship – and apparently didn't care in the slightest that he'd been captured.

But then the door to the small room burst open, and a man with a drawn gun and a stolid expression stormed in, the barrel of his weapon aimed between Hitsugaya's emerald eyes. The shinigami captain cursed mentally. He must have let his expression slip and reacted to something his captors – for they'd be his captors very soon – had said. He turned an implacable glare on the newcomer as the cold metal made contact with his forehead, but didn't make any move to retaliate. And for their part, the three who had been watching him and trying to talk to him didn't make any move to remove the firearm from his temple, only raised their eyebrows and looked askance at the man holding the gun.

"Agent Coulson, what is the meaning of this?" Rogers asked, his voice deceptively quiet. "You realize you are holding a gun to a _child's_ head."

Coulson didn't take his gaze away from Toushiro's pale, cold face, away from the nonchalant expression and challenging glare.

"I am. But he seems unusually composed, don't you think?" the suit-wearing agent replied calmly. "I think it's fairly clear he's not who he says he is."

Rogers sat back, appeased by the assessment, and suddenly Toushiro felt the waves of hostility rise like a tsunami ready to break. And Fury leaned forward.

"So is he one of Loki's, then? What alerted you to that?"

Coulson nodded tightly, his finger still hovering over the trigger.

"When you began discussing the Tesseract and Loki's presence on board, his face began to appear strained, and he started chewing on his bottom lip and subtly testing his bonds again. It's clear he understood every word you were saying."

Agent Romanoff sighed aloud, any trace of false warmth evaporating into a hard-edged glare.

"So we'll have to do this the hard way, then." She said coldly.

"I highly doubt that." Toushiro responded evenly, his accent so smooth and polished that none present doubted either his intellect or linguistic skills. "I answered your questions truthfully. I do not know where I am, I do not know who you are, and my name has not changed in the three minutes since I first gave it to you. I was merely being cautious when I told you I did not speak English. And I haven't the faintest idea who Loki is."

His flawless grammar and unconcerned demeanor made the four guarding him slightly wary of his capabilities. Coulson withdrew his gun from the boy's temple and holstered the weapon. The kid had obviously been taught to speak English perfectly well. So what else could he do?

"It is not my intention to do you any harm." He said emotionlessly. "I am in your debt for the medical attention I received. It likely saved my life. All I wish for at this point is the freedom to return to my people."

Captain Rogers frowned and leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his muscular chest.

"I don't think we can let you do that, son." he said. "You've put us in a bit of a predicament."

Toushiro raised a snowy brow, appearing utterly nonchalant.

"Oh? Enlighten me." he drawled, rolling his eyes. "What's so terrible about letting me go? From what I heard about this Tesseract thing, your enemy has it, and is trying to use it to control the world. And…he seems intelligent enough to actually pull his plan off. Prisoners are rarely so unconcerned unless they have an escape plan. So basically, no matter what sort of classified information I've accidentally learned, the rest of the world's going to figure it out pretty damned soon. What could I do?"

The room was silent for a long moment, and Toushiro took the time to wrestle with the Velcro straps holding him in place again, jerking his hands with greater measures of his full strength and grinning viciously when he heard the stiff material begin to protest. Suddenly a syringe was jabbed into the crook of his arm, though the silvery contents were not injected.

"Stop that." Agent Romanoff told him, her finger hovering over the plunger. "I will tranquilize you."

He stiffened, scowling, but reluctantly fell still. The loaded syringe stayed buried in his skin, a blatant warning of what would happen should he refuse to cooperate.

"Answer my question, then." He bit out. "Why do you not release me?"

Fury sighed.

"We are currently cruising 33,000 feet above the planet's surface, Toushiro." He said seriously, staring at the young man with a hint of amusement in his gaze. "Releasing you at this point in time would be rather difficult without a parachute. However, there is also the matter of how you arrived on the Helicarrier."

Something about the way his words were phrased caught Toushiro's attention, and he suddenly came to realization that-

"I crash-landed on the hull, didn't I? That's how I hit my head," he asked, shaking his head in disbelief. "And you have no idea how I survived such a crash, why I was falling, or why I was wounded, so you're wary."

Nick Fury folded his hands.

"Smart kid."

Hitsugaya stared up at the ceiling, face twisted in displeasure, teeth gritted in frustration. His fists clenched tightly.

He couldn't talk his way out of this.

 _"_ _Shit."_

* * *

 **A/N: Thanks to those who left reviews!**

 **urs-v: Setting is definitely post-Fullbring by at least a few months. And yes...the Avengers can see shinigami. This is sort of a meeting fic, so expository dumps will come later. Long story short...Infinity Stones are IMPORTANT!**

 **~avtorSola**


	3. Unexpected

**A/N:** Last chapter in process! However, my dear readers, you must remember – THIS IS A UNIVERSE. Think of this like a prequel, and my bad guy will have a cameo at the end. There **_will_** be more, I promise :D (before anyone gets mad at me *hides* I'm just pulling a Marvel  & including a "Thanos" at the end…) But I do have a question for you – should I include characters from Agents of SHIELD in the upcoming, or no? I'm leaning towards yes…if only because I want to send Shiro to my version of SHIELD Academy…

* * *

The plexiglass-paneled door sealed itself shut behind Rogers as he stepped out, and Fury quickly entered the code which would lock it from the outside. The dull thunk of the iron bolts sliding into place around the door frame sounded briefly, then died away in the resounding silence. Two guards fell into position on either side of the door. Then the SHIELD Director and Rogers set off towards the meeting room.

Questioning the preteen boy hadn't ended well. He'd refused to speak of how he'd received his wounds, or of how he could have possibly survived creating the shallow crater with naught but his bleeding body. And when they'd tried to threaten him with jail time, he'd just laughed them off, saying that they couldn't frighten him into compliance any more than death could. He'd been a remarkably well-behaved prisoner though, submitting without complaint when one of SHIELD's field doctors had come in to administer a gentler sedative than the one Agent Romanoff had threatened him with. And when the white-clothed doctor had unwrapped the bandages from the kid's side and examined the slashes beneath, he had simply stared at the ceiling, his shock of snow-white hair splayed over the pillow like a supernova's blinding rays.

But it was the sheer speed of his healing capabilities that silenced the SHIELD Director. It had been less than thirty-six hours since the child had crashed into their ship and gone into emergency treatment, but he was already halfway through a healing process which should take normal humans six weeks. So they'd knocked him out, unsure of his abilities, and he hadn't made even the slightest protest when the serum had been injected into his bloodstream. He'd only closed his eyes and gone to sleep.

Thor had been indignant while watching the doctor sedate their young prisoner, but the combined efforts of Stark, Banner, and Captain Rogers had managed to calm him. Especially when Banner said that his analysis of the boy's odd sword, a traditional Japanese katana, was complete, and indicated that immense power was on standby within the blade, similar to the Tesseract.

And they were now gathered around the oblong table to discuss it.

Banner was the one who first began to speak. He rubbed his palms together, as if nervous, then smiled hopelessly and threw his hands up in the air.

"I have no idea what the energy in that blade is." he stated flatly. "Whatever it is, it's not exactly radiation, and it's not exactly lower-grade electromagnetic energy either. The closest I can guess is kinetic or light energy of some kind, but it has aspects of both the former two kinds of energies which turn it into something I've never seen before. It almost reminds me of the Tesseract."

Stark considered this for a moment.

"So, in other words…you're coming up blank." He said in a very factual manner. Dr. Banner nodded, head in his hands.

"I could run every test known to man on that sword and I doubt I'd be able to decipher its secrets. Every time I try to draw out the energy inside it, it goes dormant and all the energy readings I get just…vanish. And the strange part is that the readings have started to disappear whenever I pick up the tools I need to analyze that energy." Banner confessed, leaning back in his chair. "It's more than a little frightening. It's almost as if the sword is alive and watching me."

Thor shifted in his chair, causing it to creak in protest.

"The child would be able to tell us for certain." He said guardedly, looking up at Nick Fury with a hint of disgust in his eyes. He still wasn't happy about the young man's sedation. Rogers half-turned in his seat to look at the lightning demigod, a trace of disbelief on his chiseled face.

"Able to, most likely." He agreed. "But I'm not sure we can convince him to part with any of his secrets. He doesn't seem scared of us in the slightest. Agent Coulson had a gun to his head, and he didn't even flinch. With a reaction that relaxed, he's certain to have seen combat."

Thor shook his head slowly.

"My people have stories about those like him." he said quietly. "It is one of the reasons your world has had so little contact with those from more hostile realms over the millennia – his race, that is. Most others fear his people, and with good reason. They are fiercely protective of humankind, and their power _is_ startlingly similar to that of objects such as the Tesseract. In that you were correct, friend Banner."

Romanoff leaned forward, her eyes narrow in annoyance.

"He is not human?" she asked coldly. "And you did not tell us?"

Thor stood up, gaze on the floor, and began to amble towards the faraway wide window looking out into the open sky beyond.

"In truth, I thought his kind to be a fairytale. My father used to tell me stories about them when I was very small. He said they were exceedingly formidable in war, and each wielded blades of immense power, much like my hammer. And my father always said there used to be an alliance between his people and the people of Asgard many long years ago, but the alliance crumbled for reasons my father will not speak of and his race disappeared into myth. So…I thought them to be nothing more than legend."

For a long moment, everything was hushed while the group processed this information, and then Thor turned back to the group.

"Let me speak with him. Alone." He said. "Perhaps he will converse with me if I show that I know what he is. And if I make it clear that we need the aid of his race…perhaps he will even agree to help us find the Tesseract."

Fury just looked at the thunder demigod for a long minute. Then he shook his head and sighed.

"Well, I guess you're our best shot, aren't you?" he said. "Go ahead. Captain Rogers, you watch them from the observation room. Agent Romanoff, figure out what you're going to say to Loki. Stark and Banner…for God's sake, keep looking for the Tesseract."

* * *

When the young captain reawakened from the forced sleep, he wasn't surprised to see that there was someone in the room with him, watching over him while he lay helpless, sedated and hooked up to IV fluids. But he was surprised by the new man's appearance. His clothing was distinctly something from the Middle Ages in basic design, though extremely well made and fully functional, which indicated highly advanced technology. And he was blond, muscular, and looked somewhat like a roguish teenaged delinquent. Definitely not someone Toushiro would have thought adept to an interrogation scenario.

Upon noticing that he was awake again, this man pushed himself away from wall he'd been leaning against and nodded cordially to him.

"Good morning, young one." The unknown man said, his demeanor a sight more friendly than any of the previous interrogators had possessed. "Are you well?"

Hitsugaya considered that for a moment.

"Still tied down." he said bluntly. "Still have a needle stuck in my arm. Still have bandages wrapped around my side. I'm starting to get rather annoyed, actually."

The man grinned at that.

"I would imagine so." He agreed easily. "You'll have to forgive my compatriots. You scare them, little shinigami. They don't know what to make of you."

For a long minute, Hitsugaya said and did absolutely nothing, only stared in something akin to shock. And then he _lunged_ , tearing through his restraints like rice paper _._

Thor had never seen anyone move quite so fast. The Asgardian prince was quickly wrestled to the floor, upsetting the chair he been sitting on earlier, and Hitsugaya's narrow feet pinned his wrists to the floor with unnatural strength. The boy's hands wrapped around his throat, and then the young shinigami was sitting on the larger man's chest. Hitsugaya's entire body glowed with wisps of pale blue light, and his face was twisted in a hostile glower.

"Where did you learn that, human?!" he snarled, his tone feral and dangerous. "Depending on your answer, I may let you escape with your life."

Thor frowned, then jerked an arm free of the tiny shinigami's grip and backhanded the otherworldly child with enough force to snap a grown man's neck. Toushiro was sent sprawling, and the light wreathing him faded, though he was unhurt. Thor got up confidently, ready for the boy to attack again. He knew that Captain Rogers was in the observation room, likely contacting Fury about Hitsugaya's sudden aggression. But he had to resolve this.

He knew from his father that the shinigami were a secretive, enigmatic race, and that they didn't take kindly to strangers knowing the answers to their convoluted riddles. So he had to calm the shinigami child before he could become any more wound up than he already was.

Yet Toushiro was content to circle, like a predator stalking his prey, the barest hints of steel glinting in his cold emerald gaze.

"Where did you hear of my kind, human? I will only ask you this one more time." He warned, his tone carrying a ponderous threat behind it. Suddenly the air began to grow thick and hard to breathe, as if some invisible force was pressing in around the demigod and choking him. Hitsugaya's glare intensified – a truly intimidating stare.

Thor coughed roughly.

"For the record…I am not human. I am from Asgard." He forced out. "My father…used to have an alliance with your people. Then you vanished…several thousand years ago."

The mysterious pressure lifted, and surprise flickered across the young shinigami's pale face. His face turned probing, as if considering the words carefully, and Thor massaged his chest, taking deep breaths.

"Who is your father?" the boy demanded, eyes narrowing. Even clad in a shirt and pants that were at least four sizes too large for him, the young shinigami carried himself with the air of one used to command. Thor realized he was speaking to a fellow leader. He respect for the young man grew.

"My father is Odin, the King of Asgard, one of the nine realms." He said, returning the cold stare with his own steadfast gaze. "I am Thor Odinson, his son and heir. And you are?"

Toushiro raised an eyebrow, then gave Thor a short bow.

"Toushiro Hitsugaya of the Thirteen Court Guard Divisions." He said expressionlessly. "What is Asgard? I have never heard the name of your country before. How ancient history are you talking?"

Thor blinked in surprise, then cocked his head to the side and smiled in a sort of disbelief.

"Asgard is a planet, Toushiro. It is several hundred thousand light-years from Earth, if I remember correctly. But we have seen and heard nothing of your people for several thousand years, perhaps even longer." He informed the young shinigami.

Hitsugaya's mouth opened in soundless shock, and he swayed. Suddenly Thor realized that the boy had ripped the IV from his arm in his initial lunge and that while he was healing much more quickly than a normal being, he still bore his wounds and the pain they brought. The thundergod leapt forward, wrapping an arm around the boy's chest to steady him.

"Easy, Toushiro. You are not fully recovered." He said, sweeping the boy's feet out from underneath him and lifting the shinigami's slight frame easily in his arms. Hitsugaya's squawk of protest was ignored. "You should stay in bed for the time being."

Thor set the boy back down on the bed he'd previously occupied, clearing away the torn bonds and covering him with the blanket. Toushiro blinked, scowling, but the Asgardian prince only gave the young man a hard look and raised a hand in a threatening manner. The young shinigami sighed then and lay back tiredly, passing a hand over his face.

"How can you all see me?" he asked then, staring up at the ceiling with resignation, one arm tucked behind his head. "Humans cannot usually see my kind unless they possess high levels of Spiritual Pressure. Yet obviously the humans on this ship have no trouble seeing me, otherwise I would've bled out by now. And as far as I can tell you all possess levels of Spiritual Pressure only slightly above average."

Thor cocked his head to the side, confused.

"What is spiritual pressure?" he asked, puzzled by the foreign term. Hitsugaya snorted in irritation.

"Never mind, I'll yell at Kurotsuchi later." He snapped. "What do you know about my people? And who else on this flying metal box is privy to that information?"

Thor shrugged, smiling sheepishly.

"I do not know very much." he admitted. "The stories my father told of shinigami mentioned that your race had immense powers and that you were highly secretive in nature. I've also heard that your swords are your primary weapons, and that you consider yourselves to be the protectors of the human race. But other than that, I know very little. For some reason, most of those who are hostile to Earth and Asgard fear shinigami beyond reasonable measures, but the reasons for such fear have long been lost to common knowledge. Your kind have been absent from the galactic scene for quite some time now."

Thor stood then and again leaned casually against the wall.

"As for who else on this ship knows…I told the others already. It would not surprise me if they have spread the word."

Toushiro scowled deeply, and stared at the ceiling in frustrated anger. Yamamoto was going to kill him – fry him into ash.

"How did you recognize my race?" he asked.

Thor raised an eyebrow.

"Dr. Banner has run several tests upon your blade." He said calmly. "Nothing damaging, I promise you, but enough to conclude that there is a considerable amount of an unfamiliar energy stored within it. In addition, my father always described your race as wearing clothes similar to what I first saw you in. Though I do not know what the white coat signifies – my father never mentioned that."

Hitsugaya ignored the hidden question in Thor's words, and for the next several moments, he said absolutely nothing. He appeared to be thinking hard in a somewhat nervous state, consider that he was worrying his bottom lip with his teeth. But finally the silence was broken.

"I apologize in advance for what I'm about to say, Thor." He said quietly. "But I cannot answer any of your questions without permission. Humans are forbidden from explicit knowledge of my race, and while I cannot wipe your memory of stories you learned from childhood, I am required by the laws of my kind to erase your recollection of me and any interactions with me once I leave. So you must release me on good faith. Rest assured I mean you no harm. But I cannot interfere with human affairs. I would be executed upon return to my people if my actions affected the course of the world without prior consent."

Thor gazed seriously at him, processing the weight of the shinigami child's answer with some disbelief. Execution surely threw the boy's predicament into perspective. He couldn't say anything by his laws, but SHIELD wouldn't let him go without the answers to the questions they had. The demigod folded his hands across his chest. There was only one possible way out for their prisoner.

"Could you interfere if I told you that Loki, my adoptive brother, was the one trying to anoint himself king over all of Earth?" Thor asked seriously. "We believe he is trying to use the Tesseract to bring an alien army to conquer your planet. He is currently in custody…but my brother is clever. And the Tesseract is still missing. Can you act under those terms? We could sorely use your people's help."

Hitsugaya stared. Then his eyes narrowed.

"Let me contact my superiors."

* * *

Any reviews?


	4. Cold as Ice, Cruel as War

**A/N** : Remember - this is a prequel. Not even Toushiro knows entirely what's going on. Yet. ;)

* * *

 _"Thoughts/Telepathy"_

 _"~Artificial Communications~"_

 _"Zanpakutou speaking"_

 ** _"Japanese"_**

Stark was watching him carefully manipulate the computer they'd given him to work with. It had taken him a few moments to familiarize himself with the technology, and a few more to calibrate his communicator so that the wavelength frequencies were in sync, but now that he was back in his shihakusho and haori, he felt much better. He might actually be in somewhat of a good mood if not for the know-it-all peering over his shoulder.

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" Stark asked, his tone astonishingly patronizing. Toushiro barely spared the man a glance. They still refused to return his Zanpakutou to him, and had dictated very explicit terms concerning how he would make contact with Yamamoto. He was not to speak Japanese, he would permit Agent Romanoff and Agent Coulson to keep loaded pistols aimed at his person, several of SHIELD's agents would be in the room with him while he was speaking, and Romanoff's gun would actually be _at his temple_ throughout the entire conversation, et cetera. Romanoff and Thor would be flanking him, Rogers would be standing by Fury, and Dr. Banner and the stuck-up billionaire would be waiting in the background.

Among other things. He was sure there were stun guns somewhere in the mess of security, and tranquilizer darts…

"Silence, humans." He snapped finally, tired of their chatter. "Our scientists should locate my video signal at any time now."

The sudden cold pressure of the redheaded woman's gun on the side of his head made him stiffen momentarily, and she stepped directly behind him, gripping one of his wrists tightly.

"Remember, don't try anything funny, shinigami boy." She said calmly. "It wouldn't be the first time I've shot someone in such close proximity."

He swallowed uncomfortably, glad that the tears in his shihakusho and haori had been mended. His pride was already taking enough of a hit.

"I won't." he said, equally as calm. "Now, I'll have to identify myself in Japanese, but after that they should patch me through to the people I need to speak with. Agent Romanoff, you can translate if you feel it's necessary."

They'd taken him – under guard, of course – to what they called a meeting room, where they had equipment for the video conference he'd requested. So once he got confirmation from the computer, the images should appear up on the screen, and Yamamoto would be able to see that he was being held at gunpoint. The message was all too clear.

"Affirmative, Hitsugaya." She responded coolly. "So we wait."

He nodded cautiously, the barrel of the cold weapon still flush against his icy skin. Then he focused on the computer again, hacking a little further into the inner workings and rewriting the software.

 ** _"_** ** _This is Hitsugaya Toushiro, Tenth Division Captain."_** he said firmly. **_"I am requesting video communications with Yamamoto-soutaicho."_**

For a long moment, he heard and saw absolutely nothing, but suddenly the large screen flickered and Kurotsuchi's malformed face popped up on the screen. He leered down at the young captain, examining the situation with his typical distaste.

 ** _"_** ** _Oho, Hitsugaya-taicho!"_** he sneered. **_"I thought you'd finally died on us. Pity you survived. Why are you allowing those foolish humans to hold you hostage? You should have killed them on first sight. Wouldn't you usually, given the option?"_**

Hitsugaya rolled his eyes, knowing that Agent Romanoff had stiffened behind him.

"Shut up, Kurotsuchi." He said darkly, his voice dripping with barely concealed malice. "Or I'll do you the _honor_ of feeling Hyourinmaru's length slide through your ribs. I asked to talk to Yamamoto-soutaicho, not to listen to your nonsense. Now, what you **should** be asking is why a large group of humans can see me yet have no discernable reiatsu. Besides, it was the Twelfth Division's insufferable tardiness with the damned Gentei Kaijo which nearly killed me, idiot! The humans with me managed to save my life. Now patch me through, or I'll slit your throat when I return."

Kurotsuchi scowled.

 ** _"_** ** _Fine, you pathetic brat. What's with the English anyhow?"_**

"It's none of your concern, you ineffectual attention-seeker." Hitsugaya snapped haughtily. "I am not required to explain myself to _you_. Now patch me through, dammit!"

With a last curse of disgust from the other captain, the picture changed to reveal the Captain Commander standing imperiously before the screen.

 ** _"_** ** _Hitsugaya-taicho, what is the meaning of this?!"_** he demanded. **_"Your subordinates have been searching for you for two days! And now you choose to come begging for help after your capture! Explain yourself!"_**

Suddenly, surprisingly, Agent Romanoff leapt to his defense, her glare sharp.

"Hitsugaya-san was picked up by our airship by accident." She said coldly. "He was on the verge of death, and we have since done our best to tend to his wounds. The harsh treatment came after he refused to answer some of the questions that we had."

Yamamoto looked askance at Hitsugaya, who merely lowered his gaze.

"What Agent Romanoff says is true." He said quietly. "But it seems those around me belong to a secret organization, and I happened to…ah, I accidentally caused a bit of damage to their ship when I collided with it. Damage that the average human couldn't have survived. So they were suspicious of me and kept me under close observation. I could not come up with a way to escape without using Kido or Shunpo and thereby revealing myself."

Then he closed his eyes.

"However, they already knew I was a shinigami." He said haltingly. "I swear on my life that I said nothing. But I will accept full responsibility for this breach in security."

Yamamoto remained silent for several long moments, and when he spoke again, his voice was clogged by grim solemnity.

"Captain Hitsugaya, you are giving yourself a death sentence." He said in slow English. Hitsugaya nodded slowly.

"I realize this. But I am at fault for my carelessness. I should not have allowed myself to be seen…"

Suddenly, Thor stepped forward, his face twisted into disbelief.

"That is a lie, Toushiro. I had prior knowledge of your people, and you were unconscious when you first came aboard. Carelessness plays no part in your behavior! My father has known about your people for a thousand ages of mankind." He said, his tone angry. "You cannot take the blame for something that you have no control over! You cannot die for this!"

"Silence!" Toushiro roared, ignoring the gun at his temple. "You have no say in our affairs, alien! Do not attempt to interfere!"

"Alien?" Yamamoto's calm voice cut into the silence, breaking the rising tension. "Can it be…that you are from Asgard?"

Toushiro froze, eyes widening in surprise and Thor nodded.

"Yes. My father is Odin, King of Asgard." He informed the Captain Commander. "I am Thor, his heir. I am the one who informed my human counterparts of the existence of shinigami…though I don't know very much about your kind."

Yamamoto observed him carefully, old eyes snapping with suspicion and hidden anger. Then he turned back to the younger shinigami.

"Captain Hitsugaya."

Toushiro straightened up and stood at attention as best as he could with the wavering gun at his temple.

"Commander Yamamoto."

He could feel the stares boring holes into his back, especially from Dr. Banner and Mr. Stark-raving Annoying. He was a military captain – though his rank was more akin to that of a general. What was it to them?

"You are not to take the blame for this. What the Asgardian says is the truth – there is no way you could possibly be held responsible for this breach. I will speak to Central 46 on your behalf. Also, you are to return to Seireitei immediately. Unohana-taicho wishes to perform a complete examination to ensure that you are healing properly. Understood?"

The young captain stiffened, but nodded his acquiescence.

"Yes sir. I apologize for the inconvenience."

Captain Rogers suddenly stepped forward.

"With all due respect, sir, we need your help." He said earnestly. "Humankind is facing the threat of alien attack, and if we do not retrieve an object called the Tesseract in the shortest time possible, Earth could be invaded by a race called the Chitauri."

Yamamoto said nothing for a long time, so Thor and Captain Rogers took turns trying to convince the impassive man to send them some sort of aid. Toushiro kept still and silent, perfectly well aware of the pistol pressed flush against his temple. Finally, Stark intervened.

"Oh, leave them be." he said dismissively. "It's clear the shinigami don't want anything to do with us humans. I say to let the brat go."

Hitsugaya's temper cracked. Frost spread from his feet, crackling slowly up the walls and clear glass windows. He turned slowly, his gaze imperious, his bearing slow and wrathful.

"Be careful, Stark." He hissed. "I am a Captain of the Gotei 13. Killing you would be _child's play_."

Tony nodded casually.

"I'm sure you'd know all about _that_. How old are you again? Eight?" he mocked, his tone sarcastic.

Hitsugaya growled, snarling in a feral manner, then purposely turned his back.

"Insufferable human." He spat. "This is why I hate your kind so damned much. Selfish bastards, the lot of you."

"Captain Hitsugaya, please leave the emotions caused by your death out of your conversations from this point onwards! You cannot afford to have your mind clouded by hatred!" Yamamoto ordered, a touch of impatient sympathy tingeing his words. "Your reaction is understandable, but I am retracting your previous orders and placing you in charge of planetary defense for the time being. We cannot have other races killing humans – It would upset the balance and Seireitei wouldn't be capable of handling the influx. In addition, I am officially ordering you to put aside your anger for this mission. The last time you let your rage best you, you nearly died, as did three other captains. Am I understood?"

Toushiro gently brushed Agent Romanoff's gun from his head and gave the Captain-Commander a short bow, his face taut with closed resentment.

"Yes sir."

"If needed, I will order the other captains to report directly to you. Use any means necessary to stop an invasion from one of the hostile nine realms. And…I will lift the ban on passing shinigami secrets to humans. Use your own discretion. You are to aid them to the best of your ability. Understood?" Yamamoto asked sternly.

Toushiro nodded, his face blank and expressionless.

"Understood, sir."

The screen went dark.

* * *

Dr. Banner, who seemed to Toushiro to be perfect Twelfth Division material, led the child-captain to the makeshift laboratory he'd set up, apologizing the whole way for being required to confiscate the young man's sword. Hitsugaya let him apologize, his bearing cold and his features drawn and somewhat wired. At this point he only cared about getting Hyourinmaru back.

Dr. Banner slid open the door to his laboratory and led the way inside. As Toushiro crossed the threshold, he felt a surge of familiar icy reiatsu – his own, really – and he snapped around to face it, a true smile spreading across his pale face.

"Hyourinmaru?" he whispered, his gaze landing on the proud blade. His Zanpakutou was securely locked in a glass case in the corner of the office; frost spreading over the inside of the box as if the draconic blade was trying to get out. Dr. Banner froze; staring at it in shock, then ran to his computer. Stark and Rogers, who had accompanied their newfound ally to retrieve his sword, looked at the man in surprise.

"Dr. Banner, what is it?" Rogers asked, watching Toushiro glide noiselessly towards the long weapon with an unnamable glint in his striking green eyes.

"The energy readings from that blade…They've skyrocketed." Dr. Banner said, watching the screen in shock.

There was a soft laugh and an ominous crash as Toushiro shattered the lock to the glass case with unnatural ease and opened the case, lifting his Zanpakutou out with a beatific smile.

"Of course your readings skyrocketed." He said, satisfaction evident on his pale little face. "The spirit within this blade is irreversibly linked with me. Such is the bond between shinigami and Zanpakutou. One's Zanpakutou is born from their shinigami's soul, and they forever draw their powers from each other. It is the ultimate in symbiotic relationships. A shinigami's power is often halved without their blade, and the sword cannot survive if their shinigami dies."

Toushiro tied the sheathed sword to his back with the golden chain that was thankfully still attached to the indigo sheath, then rolled his shoulders and placed a hand on the hilt. Hyourinmaru's blizzard-like spirit rushed through him with wild abandon.

 _"_ _Master, are you well?"_

Toushiro smiled gently.

"Well enough, Hyourinmaru." He murmured softly, rubbing the blue hilt fondly. "Well enough."

The dragon fell dormant, a constant, soothing thrum in the back of his shinigami's consciousness. And Hitsugaya sighed with relief.

"Were you talking to the sword?"

And the peace was gone.

"Yes, Stark, I was." he said bluntly, glaring at the annoying man over his shoulder. "If you were listening earlier, I've already said that a shinigami's Zanpakutou is sentient – though none but their owner can hear the voice from within."

Stark blinked in surprise, then turned to Rogers.

"I don't think he likes me very much." he said petulantly. Rogers ignored Stark's complaining, his eyes narrowing on the young captain before them. There was a reason he'd come after the young captain – one reason only.

"Captain Hitsugaya, can I ask you something?" he asked.

Toushiro rolled his eyes, sighing a long-suffering sigh.

"You just did." he said flatly. "What _else_ would you like to know?"

Captain Rogers regarded the boy carefully.

"Earlier, your commanding officer said to 'leave the emotions caused by your death out of your conversations.' What exactly did he mean by that?" the captain asked, his gaze fixed on the young shinigami. "And how can one as young as you be so impossibly world-weary? I have met generals who are less pragmatic than you."

Hitsugaya's gaze fell to the floor and suddenly he seemed engulfed in a cloud of sorrow and gloom. His young countenance became lined with care and weary sadness.

"You do not know what you ask of me, Captain Rogers." He said softly, his tone low and dangerous. "It…is extremely personal."

Rogers backed off quickly.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry." He apologized, though still confused. Hitsugaya shook his head, smiling dryly.

"It is alright." he forgave easily, though the words were laced with bitterness. "You do not know what a shinigami is, and that is the crux of your ignorance. But perhaps you deserve to know."

Captain Rogers shook his head, ignoring Stark's eager sounds of agreement in the background.

"You do not have to tell us if you do not wish to, Captain." he said.

Toushiro smiled mirthlessly, his expression strained.

"I am willing to divulge this information. It may help to warn you that crossing me will be the last thing you ever do." He said. His hand drifted up the hilt of his sword absently, and his small fingers massaged the cloth there, as if anxious. He seemed very young in that moment, a boy no more than thirteen. Thor came in through the open door to see this, and his brow furrowed in confusion. But he said nothing, perhaps having overheard the conversation from outside, or perhaps understanding that Hitsugaya was on the verge of spilling secrets that he would not have told ordinarily. Either way, the silence was unbroken. And finally, the young shinigami captain spoke.

"One is very rarely born a shinigami." He began slowly. "Being a shinigami is a job, not a species of creature unto itself. We…we are merely the souls of departed humans. A shinigami's job is to guide dead people to the afterlife, and to cleanse the tortured souls we name Hollows of their binds to the World of the Living. The shinigami…are the gods of death. That is who we are. Every shinigami you will ever see is a dead spirit. We were all once human, save those of the noble families. So… when Yamamoto-soutaicho simply told me to forget the hatred I feel left by my death, he was speaking literally. So I shall. I am a soldier."

The four others stared at him in shock, listening with both confusion and sudden trepidation as he continued to speak.

"Only those of noble standing are trained from birth to take up the sword." The young captain told them. "But it is far more common for those of peasant background to seek entrance into the Shinou Academy – where one learns all that they must know to be accepted into our ranks. I, being low class because I was a slain soul and not a born spirit, opted to take this path when I was very young, even by shinigami standards."

Captain Rogers sat down heavily in one of the nearby chairs, staring at the boy before him in shock.

"Do all shinigami hate humans as much as you seem to, then? Because we are living?" he asked quietly. Hitsugaya shook his head.

"…No." he replied, a kind of shame in his tone. "I am extremely rare even amongst my people. My power is exceptional in both amount and potency, and my mind is much quicker than most of those who are adult in size. Since I entered the Shinou Academy, I have been labeled a prodigy. A phenomenon. The Academy is supposed to take six years to graduate, and even then over half of the class fails and must return to their schooling. I mastered everything they had to offer in seven months, the fastest graduation time in my people's history. I heard the voice of my Zanpakutou spirit before I even knew how to control my own powers and received a blank blade, which is supposed to be impossible. But I did it."

His fists clenched tightly.

"And most attribute this incredible ability to one thing." He choked out. "I am a Memory Sentinel, one of the three currently amongst my shinigami companions who can remember how they died. I can remember the life I had while I walked the planet's surface as a human. And that sole abnormality has given rise to all of my unusual power. That is the most common theory. And it is because I remember my life and death that I hate humans."

Toushiro's white coat billowed as he walked across to a nearby window, placing his small hand on the surface with a kind of sad nostalgia. He chuckled to himself, a soft laugh that rang with choked hatred and dragging grief. Then he turned, faced Rogers without feeling ashamed of the lone tear trickling slowly down his pale cheek.

"I died in the First World War." He whispered. "I was eleven years old at the time. I wasn't even fighting. I was simply carrying the German flag, standing in the pouring rain like I'd been told to. And I took a stray bullet to the stomach. I can remember lying in the mud for hours, coughing and choking on my own blood, terrified of what would happen to me. And nobody stopped. Nobody cared that I was dying. Not the men who'd promised me I would go home safely…not the nasty Lieutenant who'd bought my service from the man who ran the orphanage I'd been raised in…Nobody. I died in pain, alone and scared on the field of battle."

Rogers, Thor, Stark and Banner found themselves unable to speak. How could they? To learn that the child before them was dead – a living ghost – and had felt the agony of a bullet in his belly when he was only eleven, how could they respond?

Hitsugaya shook his head, hands still curled tightly into fists as if he was ready to punch through any material which stood in his way.

"I remember going to sleep." the young man choked out. "I remember closing my eyes for the last time and feeling only my own grief. My grief that no other living person had ever cared for me. My mother, a Japanese girl, gave birth to me when she was eighteen, and immediately gave me away. I was told that she said I was an unwanted whelp, a reminder of the man who'd contributed half of my genes. My father was a German and a career rapist and murderer. I never met him. So I spent eleven years wasting away under the care of people who couldn't care less about whether I lived or died, until the day they practically sold me into army service. And I died on the front lines, two weeks later."

He coughed slowly, the stitches in his side pulling uncomfortably tightly.

"My current lieutenant, Rangiku Matsumoto, was the one who found me staring at my own grave, crying so hard that I was throwing up." Tears were running freely down his face now, and he was shaking like mad, so worked up that he could barely stand. "She said I was one of only two spirits that she'd met which had _known_ they were dead. She tried her best to comfort me. But I…I knew better. The men in my squad had left my corpse behind to rot. It was the enemy, the French, who had buried me and held a little funeral for me, all out of sheer pity. Not my own people. So…Matsumoto sent me on as gently as she could. I can still remember the sympathy on her face and what she said to me."

Toushiro paused to wipe the saltwater from his cheeks.

"She told me that she would look for me in the afterlife." He whispered. "That she would find me again and take care of me if I needed it, because I mattered and had deserved better than what I'd had. It was the first time I'd ever been told that I mattered. That I…That I meant something."

He smiled then, a soft smile that was laced with sorrow.

"I found people who cared for me in death. I almost…almost forgot about how cruel humans could be. But twenty-eight years later, I became a shinigami. It was 1942 in the human world…so the Second World War was in full swing. I was dispatched to Auschwitz with two unranked shinigami under my command. "

The smile disappeared.

"I found my mother there." he said expressionlessly. "She'd married a Jewish man, converted, and they'd had four children. My half-brothers and half-sisters. They were all gassed. So I had to send them on. I introduced myself to my mother and…she recognized me. I suppose it would be hard not to. Not many German-Japanese kids exist, and few people appear as I do, with my white hair and green eyes. So she recognized me. She didn't realize she was dead, and neither did her children, or the man who could have been my stepfather. And do you know what she said next?"

Hitsugaya gritted his teeth then, and rammed his fist into the wall hard enough to make his knuckles bleed. The crimson liquid stained the wall. He shook. Nobody was foolish enough to speak at that moment.

"She asked me to disappear. To never as much as speak to her again. She told me I should have never been born, that I was a mistake that shouldn't have been made. And then she asked me to leave before her husband could wake up and discover that I existed." Toushiro's voice was cracked and choked. "I didn't, of course. I just looked at her and told her that she was dead. And so was I. Then I waited for her children and her husband to awaken as spirits, and I sent them all on. I never saw them again. I don't want to look for them."

Slowly, Toushiro's impeccable posture slumped, his hands dropping uselessly to his sides.

"I've hated the living ever since." He said listlessly. "For abandoning me. For killing me. For letting me die alone. Ninety-eight years since my death, and never once have I felt goodwill towards a human for no reason. And then I crash-land on your ship, and you save my life without motive. You stitch my side back together and care for me even though you do not know me. And now you know of my race, of what we are, of who I am, and I'm not sure what I should be feeling. I still hate humans…but for some reason, I do not think of you as human."

Captain Rogers blinked, then sighed and tried to smile.

"I don't think it's humans that you hate, Captain." he said calmly. "I think it's human cruelty which truly has your hatred."

Hitsugaya did not respond, only stared off into the distance. The four men exchanged long looks. They'd been forced to swallow a great many unpleasant facts about their newest ally. How could they respond appropriately?

Rogers finally thought of something that could work.

"Toushiro…you're not the only one here who lost everything in battle." he said quietly. "I sacrificed myself during World War Two to protect the people I loved from an organization called Hydra. At least, I meant to die."

The young shinigami did not turn around, but Rogers pushed on anyhow. He knew how a soldier's mind worked, and Hitsugaya was as disciplined as they came despite his youth. If this turned out badly, Hitsugaya wouldn't attack him. But Rogers felt that the boy needed to hear this.

"I drove a plane into the Arctic Ocean. I knew it was going to kill me, but I did it anyway. I ended up frozen in ice for seventy years. I was only just revived. But everyone I knew…they were all gone." He said. "And for what it's worth…I wouldn't have left you alone. You don't deserve that."

Slowly, Hitsugaya turned around, his face expressionless. Rogers felt a flicker of apprehension, quickly squashed. This was a man surrounded by loss, who needed something to hold on to. A young man who needed his faith in humanity restored.

"Look, Toushiro. Sometimes life is cruel to us. You know that better than anyone." He said earnestly. "But you can't let the actions of a few dictate how you see everyone."

Toushiro scowled at the other man.

"Do not speak to me of how I view your kind, Rogers." He snarled.

Rogers shot to his feet, anger suffusing him.

"Well, this may be news to you, but not everyone is selfish and cruel!" he said with a trace of indignation. "And like it or not, three of the four people in this room are human! And so were you at one point! So why don't you give us the chance to be both human _and_ to be decent people?"

Hitsugaya glared hard at the army captain, then turned away, his face tight.

"I will give you a chance." he said tautly. "But only you. And maybe Banner. But Stark has already proven himself to be the kind of person which I hate."

Rogers shook his head.

"I don't want your chance, then." He said. Hitsugaya stiffened, the glare leaving his face. He seemed confused by the sudden about-face in tactics.

"I don't want to befriend someone who judges others based off something that happened ninety years ago." He said, crossing his arms over his chest. His look was flinty. "Comrades-in-arms need to trust each other. They need to have faith in each other. You can't just found your hatred of an entire species on a few coldhearted individuals and expect everyone else to fit into that mold. And shocking as it may sound; I don't think that Mr. Stark is the kind of person who can watch others die."

Tony threw up his hands in the background and gestured theatrically at Rogers' stone expression.

"Thank you, Captain Rogers, for the vote of confidence."

Steve Rogers glanced back over his shoulder with a kind of annoyance marking his features.

"Of course, Mr. Stark may be self-centered and conceited all of the time, but when you were telling us about your…well, during your story, he almost seemed like he was going to cry." Captain Rogers said quietly. "I almost felt the same way. So don't lump us in with the people who abandoned you. We healed you, didn't we?"

Hitsugaya's emerald stare would have been burning a hole in the floor if he'd possessed that sort of power. But slowly, he exhaled a long, slow breath.

"You have made your point." He said coldly. "But forgive me if a century of hatred does not vanish with a few well-placed words. I am here to aid you to the best of my ability and I will do exactly that. But any camaraderie between us – any of us – must be earned."

Captain Rogers sighed.

"That was all I was asking for, Toushiro. A chance to earn it." He said seriously. "I'll watch your back if you'll watch mine."

Hitsugaya nodded curtly. And then he left.

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As always, I love reviews! And shoutout to everyone who has already reviewed - It really helps! :)


	5. Yellow Regrets

Toushiro leaned back against the steel wall, rubbing at the stitches in his side almost absently, his mind awhirl with a bubbling chemical concoction of combined upset and anger. He still couldn't believe that he'd practically spilled out his entire (after)life story to humans, most of whom he'd barely known for more than twenty-four hours. Yamamoto said he could tell the humans about _Seireitei_ , true, but his personal life and Seireitei were only loosely connected topics. So…hell, why did he bring up his past? Even Takahashi, his stoic third-seat, knew that he got overly emotional whenever he dwelled on that!

 _"How did I let myself get so out of control?"_

Irritated with himself, he pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath, trying to repress the flickering urges of grief that swam past the edges of his vision. The aftereffects of remembering his death were beginning to roll through him, waves of grief and pain that hadn't faded as time passed, but had grown stronger. Unohana had said once that some types of grief festered, eating away at the soul beneath the surface.

Hitsugaya knew that his grief fell squarely into that category.

He could still feel the phantom pain of a bullet lodging in his gut sometimes, usually when he fell into his odd bouts of cold despair as the memories struck him hard. Being a Memory Sentinel was only a blessing if the life one lived was cheerful and happy. But as for him? He'd rather have forgotten his past entirely, if only so he didn't have to deal with the psychological repercussions.

Slowly, he sank down the wall, knees folding gradually, until he came to rest on the floor of the room that Fury had assigned to be his personal space - the same one he'd been held in prior to Yamamoto's orders. White hair flopped forward, the messy style he'd worn since after returning Kurosaki's powers to him temporarily falling into an even greater disarray than it was normally. The snowy locks crescendoed over his knees as he allowed his head to droop, curling himself inward while the frosty edges of melancholy pain washed up the curves of his face and throat.

 _"Breathe slowly, little one."_ Hyourinmaru whispered in the recesses of his mind, banishing some of the dark grief wrapping round him. _"I have felt this episode coming on for several weeks now."_

Toushiro laughed shortly, his voice strained.

 _"Would you warn me next time?"_ he asked sharply, sinking his consciousness into the diamond ridges of Hyourinmaru's scales. The dragon shrugged oddly.

 _"I cannot."_ He said regretfully. _"I find that I cannot speak of your flashbacks – something holds my tongue. But I was not expecting this one to come so soon. Something must have triggered it, and I do not think the trigger was…sentient."_

 _"Not sentient?"_ Toushiro questioned his dragon, now wary. His bad memories were slowly being driven from the forefront of his mind by the conversation, and he relaxed his posture without realizing it, tipping his head back to thunk dully against the steel wall of his new quarters. A frown crossed his face. _"How can that be?"_

 _"I don't know, but I will tell you if I feel it again…if I can, that is."_

 _"Alright…"_

The conversation trailed off into silence, but the bond that master and Zanpakutou shared thrummed brightly between them, a consoling linkage that each knew transcended all the bounds of friendship. And Hyourinmaru curled around the boy's mind, a draconic purr rumbling deep in the Zanpakutou's throat. Toushiro sighed deeply, considering the dilemma that Hyourinmaru had presented in his usual levelheaded fashion, picking apart the problem piece by piece.

But something was nagging him, prodding the barest hints of his subconscious with a yellow finger. He frowned, trying to ignore it.

And then he felt the angry flares of human reiatsu and the slow broiling of resentment reverberate through the he left the confines of the room he'd been placed in while recovering and wandered around until he found his way to the lab where Banner had been examining Hyourinmaru. All six of the people he'd previously met were in the same room, and seemed to be arguing furiously with each other. Nick Fury would speak, and then Stark and Rogers would get angry, and then Stark would start talking and Banner and Rogers would answer him. And then Agent Romanoff would interject with a comment, and Thor would disagree, and Stark would get irritated. And Fury would exacerbate the situation.

The tension in that room was growing ever thicker, and suddenly Toushiro had the strangest feeling creep up between his shoulder blades, like the foreboding evil that prickled his skin and stank up his nostrils when he sensed a Hollow. But it was less evil and more bestial, more dangerous in its lack of control yet tamer in its growing awareness of the world about it.

Hitsugaya stepped slowly into the room, unnoticed by the furiously arguing group, and focused hard, trying to trace the flickering, unsteady source. It was like there were two there, both fighting for control. And suddenly, Toushiro understood.

"Bruce, put the scepter down…" Captain Rogers said carefully, the tall man backing up a pace from where the curly-haired scientist stood, gripping the golden weapon tightly in his white-knuckled fists. Hitsugaya stared, the scent now clearer and stronger.

"Vizard…" he whispered softly. "A human Vizard…"

He was ignored, and the scent grew even more potent as Dr. Banner became ever more infuriated. Hitsugaya was on the verge of crying out, on the verge of shouting a warning, but it seemed that the others already knew…

Suddenly the gem winking in the scepter's end caught his attention, and he felt what seemed like a lingering touch on his heart, a wavering brush of confusion and the deep melancholy of his past. Yellow and gold supernovae exploded before his eyes, and for the briefest of moments something pure and white and powerful stirred beneath his skin. His mind expanded, filling the room effortlessly, and he couldn't breathe anymore, stricken by the tantalizing, enthralling swells of recognition curled round his chest. But then the vision of yellow faded, the sense of understanding vanishing, and he blinked dazedly, stunned to find that he'd never left the room at all.

The Hollow scent bubbled in the murk of his mind.

And then all hell broke loose.

The Helicarrier lurched sideways, and the sharp report of an explosion reached their ears. The floor suddenly erupted in explosive fire and fell in, taking Agent Romanoff and Dr. Banner to the floor below them, and Hitsugaya didn't know what happened to the others because he was hurled into a wall with enough force to break a human's bones. Thank Kami he was a shinigami – his body was _significantly_ more durable. But even so, he knew it would bruise badly, and it ached with a bitterness that left a sore tang in his mouth.

The gold magic of the previous moment was forgotten, lost in a battle haze of adrenaline.

"Damn it." he spat, heaving himself off the wall. Suddenly the prickling sense of dread roared into overload, and Dr. Banner's reiatsu curdled into something mad and uncontrollable. He shook himself to clear his head, then lunged to the hole in the floor, hand on the hilt of his sword. But Thor held out a hand to stop him.

"It's alright, Captain. Leave this to me. You go with Stark and Captain Rogers." he said, flashing a grim smile. But he didn't give the young shinigami a chance to respond, leaping into the gaping chasm before Hitsugaya could speak.

Hitsugaya stood down with gritted teeth, scowling deeply as he heard the roar of the beast below, but he turned on his heel and followed the two humans out into the hallway. Stark disappeared quickly into a side room, doing who-knows-what as the ship lurched, and Rogers continued on. Suddenly, he paused.

"Captain Hitsugaya, can you go to Loki's cell and make sure that he doesn't get out?" the supersoldier asked quickly. "I'm sorry to ask that of you, but if this attack is to rescue Loki, then I can bet that they'll send someone to get him out."

Toushiro raised a single snow-colored eyebrow.

"My attacks are always meant to kill, Captain Rogers. Do you care what happens to the enemy?" he asked softly. "I will not draw my sword if you wish to spare their lives."

Rogers gave him a long look.

" _Only_ if it won't endanger you." he said. "Keep yourself…alive, I suppose. But be careful. There's not much room to swing a sword on this airship. And I've already lost one comrade in battle. Don't let me lose another, kid."

Hitsugaya bristled at the 'kid' comment, but Rogers was gone before he could come up with a scalding retort, and so he hissed in distaste and set off for the massive cylinder where they were holding Loki. Fury had given him a map of the ship earlier, one which he'd quickly memorized. It was actually proving helpful in this case – he had no idea where Loki's prison was and would be completely lost otherwise.

But he ran there as swiftly as his feet alone could carry him. His side wrenched with pain, slowing his movements, and when he met soldiers racing down a hallway, guns drawn and masks covering their faces, he had to make a flying leap to dodge the hail of bullets that came his way. At least he wasn't heading that way. He'd never needed to pit his kido against bullets before, and merely hoping that it could hold up wasn't exactly the best plan. So he kept running, ignoring the protesting of his half-healed wounds to swing around corners and leap down metal-grille staircases.

Finally he made it.

A man with dark hair and an oddly pale face was standing motionless in the gigantic glass cage, a nasty smile on his face. He turned upon hearing Toushiro run down the stairs, then blinked in surprise and drew back a little bit.

"Now this is unusual." He mused to himself. "Why would the Midgardians choose to use a child such as yourself in battle?"

Toushiro raised an eyebrow, searching for nearby reiatsu. There was very little, save for five odd, clogged presences making their way towards Loki. He considered them for a few moments, wondering what they could be, then deemed them currently non-threatening and turned back to the prisoner.

"I am not exactly your average child." he said softly. "I assume you are Loki?"

Loki gave him a theatrical bow and a fierce smirk.

"In the flesh." He replied with an odd sense of cheer.

Toushiro examined his surroundings with the sense that he was swimming underwater. He hadn't realized that the humans had developed such advanced technology. It was impressive, he thought privately, slightly overwhelmed by the progress that the human race had made. Kurotsuchi really needed to hurry up or the humans would overtake them.

"So…why did they send you down here, boy?" Loki asked again.

Hitsugaya crossed to the control station and examined the buttons and switches with a sort of childlike curiosity that he usually did not exude. All the advanced technology was magnetic for him. It was hard to keep his hands off the controls. But he was a captain; he could restrain himself.

"I am qualified." He retorted absently, a pang of roaring sadness quickly stifled in his chest. "War experience, you know?"

"So sad for one so young do have to do such dirty work." Loki tutted sadly. "You do realize how dangerous what you're doing is? You could be killed."

Toushiro rolled his eyes, leaning back against a nearby wall.

"Been there, done that." he drawled, his tone bored, eyes narrowing in anger. "I'm used to it. Next tactic to buy my loyalty, please."

Loki stiffened in surprise, eyes narrowing. For the briefest of moments, the glass between them seemed to fade away, and Loki thought he saw ice separating them instead. For a moment, he felt a flicker of uncertainty – what exactly was this boy?

"You're a sharp one." He said cautiously. "Who are you?"

Toushiro didn't deign to look at the prisoner while he answered.

"Wrong question, really. Anyhow, I'm Toushiro Hitsugaya." He said coldly. "Surname only, please. Some of the others already annoy me. Don't put yourself on my 'dislike' list."

Loki shook his head slowly, appearing to think it over for a few long moments. Then he smiled his sly smile.

"Wouldn't dream of it." he agreed easily.

.

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Thanks to everyone who reviewed/asked questions! It helps a lot! :D

~avtorSola


	6. Don't Shock Me

**A/N:** Hi guys! Just a little factoid for ya - I love getting reviews (from guests too!) Questions are also okay - and I may just hint at spoilers if/when I reply ;)

Enjoy! This is the longest chapter on this story so far (please bask in its relative glory!)

P.S. I've forgotten to write disclaimers. I will keep 'forgetting' to write them, if only so I am not constantly reminded that no...I sadly DO NOT own Bleach or Avengers... :'(

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Toushiro stood over the control box for Loki's prison blandly, a sort of nasty disbelief fluttering in the pit of his stomach. He sighed for what must have been the thousandth time since arriving in the circular room in which Loki was contained. It still baffled him that Yamamoto had assigned _him_ to be the liason between SHIELD and Seireitei. His distaste for those still living was well-known among the captains and certain members of his own division. But of course, he knew that the old man had an ulterior motive.

Yamamoto had always disapproved of his little grudge. This was probably his way of telling the young ice-wielder that such a prejudice was unacceptable in his line of work. Hitsugaya rolled his eyes at the thought, a soft 'tch' of annoyance escaping him. The Soutaicho irked him sometimes, especially when it came to the matter of his personal opinions. Interference from the old man was common – he was often assigned to patrol the World of the Living whenever Yamamoto realized he needed to blow off steam, unlike the majority of his colleagues, who were instead dispatched to the shabbier districts of the Rukongai…

But now…Hitsugaya bit his lip thoughtfully, a bad habit he'd cultivated many years ago, and considered the matter carefully. The SHIELD agents were quite different from many of the other humans he'd encountered. Their personalities were tougher-edged, as if drawn with a sharper pencil. He couldn't help but admit he'd probably enjoy Rogers' company had the man not been human, and perhaps Romanoff and Thor would be included on that list as well. Banner he was reserving judgment on, as he was for Fury. Stark, however, provoked his thin temper, though the reason for such little patience had long grown more expansive than the simple arrogance of the businessman.

Toushiro had only noticed after the fact that the billionaire hadn't just been trying to patronizingly help him calibrate the computer he'd used in the video conference, but had simultaneously watching the lines of computer code as it scrolled across the screen. He'd been attempting to puzzle out how Toushiro was contacting his superiors despite that he was apparently of an entirely different race and didn't use the same technology.

It wasn't that Stark was annoying – which he was – but he was also very smart. It was enough to inspire a modicum of respect in the young captain. As a certified genius himself, he could appreciate the intelligence of another with little issue.

And that perplexed him. For most of his century in Soul Society, he'd harbored a strong resentment towards humans. Yet interacting with SHIELD was starting to peel apart that wall of dislike. And Toushiro…well, he didn't particularly like that his beliefs were being shaken. He _had_ always been unusually stubborn. Or pig-headed, as Matsumoto preferred to call it.

With a soft prickle at the nape of his neck and the soundless current of stifled power, the clogged presences that Toushiro had noticed earlier finally arrived in Loki's prison's quarters, peering around the frame of one of the nearby doors. Hitsugaya stiffened to realize that the unusually stifled reiatsus and choked, yellow-strangled spirits he'd sensed earlier were in fact humans. And on top of that, they were the masked people from before, the ones who had opened fire on him. Enemies.

Loki smiled as they approached, then gestured at the boy who'd been sent to guard him.

"Don't hurt him too badly." He said politely. "Just tranquilize him, if you can manage it. I don't like seeing children get hurt."

Toushiro snarled at that. Rage began to swirl through him, irritation causing his icy-cold reiatsu to bubble through the stealth veil he'd placed on it. Pale, blue-white light began to shine from his skin, illuminating his face at sharp angles which made him frightening to look upon. And his green eyes glowed white-blue, burning and cold.

"Be silent, prisoner!" he snapped, snapping his hand back to the hilt of his sword. He positively glared at the newcomers. "I will show no mercy should you choose to attack!"

Loki and the four humans now creeping around the corner watched him with sudden wariness, and Toushiro took the opportunity to attack. He let go of the hilt of his blade, the light vanishing as his body adjusted to the spike in his reiatsu, and pointed lazily at the nearest of the four men.

"Bakudo 30! Shitotsusansen!"

He swept his arm down, the three fangs of golden light raging forward and latching on to one of the masked men, pinning him mercilessly to the far wall. Loki and the remaining men froze, staring. Hitsugaya sighed.

"Kido." He explained casually. "That was the less violent type of kido. But I can use the dangerous type as well, and it is far less kind."

Loki's face changed to one of the slightest fear. He fixed his eyes on his guard now, regarding him as a predator would a dangerous prey, like a spider hoping to prey upon a wasp.

"What are you?" Loki asked uncertainly, and Toushiro smiled coldly.

"I am a shinigami." He said haughtily. "That's a much more informative answer now, don't you think?"

Loki turned to the others, now truly experiencing the fear that appeared to accompany any mention of Hitsugaya's race. Toushiro watched the wide-eyed alien suspiciously, mystified and gratified by the resulting fear – which was completely justified of course. But how did those from the other realms know to fear them so?

"Kill him!" Loki yelled, gesturing sharply at the preteen shinigami. "He is likely the most dangerous person on this ship, including my brother!"

Hitsugaya cursed as the ship suddenly lurched again, but choked in surprise when it did not immediately correct itself. What were Rogers and Stark doing? The click of triggers alerted him to his current situation however, and he darted forward, body low, just in time to dodge the bullet showers. Then he backflipped, hands pushing off the metal grille so hard that he left a pattern of diamond-shaped impressions on his palms. But it had the desired effect. He leapt over the small squad's heads and immediately proceeded to use his hakuda skills to systematically destroy them.

A strong blow to the back of the head felled the first one, and then the other two were on him. He boxed one in the stomach, driving the man away, and dodged several thrusts from the other's knife before planting a foot the man's chest, a high kick which sent the hapless man flying. He did not get up again, and the final man ran forwards with a cry, grabbing Toushiro by the wrist and viciously headbutting him. Hitsugaya wheezed as the breath was driven out of him, but he brought a knee up anyway, catching his opponent in the throat and felling him easily.

Then there was a buzz, like the twanging of a bowstring, and Toushiro turned just in time for an arrow to pierce through his chest at an odd angle. He staggered; gripping the fluorescent yellow guardrail for balance, then saw a man with clouded blue eyes come around the corner, carrying a high-tech bow and quiver of arrows. Hitsugaya's eyes widened. He'd miscounted. There had originally been five spirit-choked people approaching, not four. Stupid!

And then the newcomer pressed a button on his bow, and the bolt in Hitsugaya's chest sparked with electricity. Toushiro fell with a strangled cry as searing, burning pain rushed through him, and he collapsed, convulsed on the floor, his limbs shuddering as thousands of volts crawled antlike across his skin. His vision blurred and the metallic taste of singed steel filled his mouth, a powerful current gluing his back to the floor. All rational thought shattered in one sweeping blow, and then it was over. He lay paralyzed, sprawled haphazardly on his back with the cold metal floor beneath him, his sight disjointed and unclear, and he knew he was helpless.

The world around him made no sense to his beleaguered brain, and his entire body kept seizing up, as if to remind him that the shock he'd just received would kill any normal human being. Flashes of color and light pierced his skull, resolving gradually into the shadowy shapes of men and the overhead fluorescence, and just as gradually dissolving back into nonsense. So when he saw Thor standing above him, face twisted in raging sorrow, it did not register that the man was real for several minutes, even when the Asgardian stooped down to brush over one icy, adolescent cheek. It was only when he instinctively flinched away from Thor's touch that he became aware that he wasn't hallucinating. Yet even so, all he could focus on was the ragged black fletching on the arrow protruding from his chest, on the feathered end of the black shaft that stretched up to the steel sky above.

And then he heard Thor let out a slightly muffled cry of fury, though he did not know why, and the world faded again, his brief spell of concentration broken. When Toushiro forced it to come back through sheer willpower, he saw Loki smiling down at him, scepter raised to cut his throat, the golden spear mere inches from his jugular. Hitsugaya forced his arm to rise, jerky and slow, as if gravity had quadrupled during his brief period of unconsciousness, and he aimed with trembling fingers and a befuddled mind. The only thing that was clear was that the alien man was an enemy.

"Hado 4…Byakurai…" he whispered. And the bolt of white lightning shot obediently from his fingertip, hitting Loki in the shoulder as the man tried to dodge and piercing the wicked Asgardian through. He heard a cry of pain, and felt a sharp blow to his scarred side, one which sent stars exploding across his vision.

He went limp. And the world went grey.

* * *

It was sometime later that he came fuzzily to semi-consciousness again, and when he woke he felt a hand pressed firmly to his chest, trying to stem the blood flow. Slowly, Hitsugaya realized that the arrow had only just missed his lungs, and had instead burst through a few major veins. Ergo, he'd lost enough blood to make him lightheaded – again.

"Toushiro, wake up! Come on, we need you to be strong right now!"

The voice was Rogers's, and there was just the slightest touch of fear lacing his tone. Hitsugaya realized that the man had drawn him into a reclining position, cradling him in the crook of one strong arm. His head lolled back limply, currently leaning on Rogers' broad chest, the strong heartbeat beneath a soft lullaby. He could feel himself drifting away, back into the dark folds of oblivion, but he fought it desperately, knowing that falling asleep while in his condition could prove very damaging.

"Come on, wake up, son! Come back to us, okay?"

For a few long minutes, Toushiro said nothing, only wondered sluggishly at the panic in Rogers' tone, then remembered the warning he'd been given earlier.

 _"_ _I've already lost one comrade in battle. Don't let me lose another, kid."_

Hitsugaya flinched unconsciously, feeling guilty for some odd reason, and suddenly Rogers' voice dropped away, as if listening and watching carefully. Toushiro struggled to focus, to banish the fog and weakness caused by the shock to his system. Something was bothering him…but what was it?

 _"_ _Healing kido!"_ Hyourinmaru grumbled, irritated. _"Since you can't think straight, I'll do your thinking for you. It will help to clear your head."_

Hitsugaya just obeyed dumbly, allowing the green light to glow from his fingertips, and he wrestled with his body until it let him place his own hand on his chest. Immediately cool relief from the prickling aftershock spread from where the green light made contact with his skin, and he felt a wave of clarity break through the haze over his mind. Rogers stiffened in surprise.

"Toushiro! Thank God…talk to me a little bit. I've been trying to wake you for ten minutes." he said, cupping the boy's smooth cheek in his palm. The green glare flickered to his face briefly, the pupils of the boy's eyes dilated unevenly.

"Electric shock…" Hitsugaya ground out, teeth gritted. The bolt in his chest hurt, his head felt like his brain had fried inside his skull, and he had the vaguest sensation that he'd forgotten something important. "Trying…to heal it…and the arrow wound…"

The supersoldier sighed in a mixture of relief and worry, then slid his free hand beneath the boy's knees and lifted the child captain easily.

"Hang in there, son. I'll get you to a doctor. They can help you with that bolt. …Son of a gun, you've gone pale…stay awake on me, you hear?"

Hitsugaya frowned at the perceived coddling but the arrow skimming against his ribcage was painful and so were the remnants of the searing electricity. So he let the human carry him, focusing only on the healing kido he was attempting to perform. His knowledge of healing kido was fairly decent, but he'd never pretended to be good at it. He could spit out first-aid healing spells without even the slightest issue, but when it came to more complicated processes such as the one he was trying to complete now…he struggled. Stopping blood flow with the arrow still in his chest _and_ trying to soothe his overloaded nervous system was tricky. He was managing, but not as easily as he'd hoped.

Rogers got him to the infirmary, a white boxlike room with bright, sterile lights, in record time and quickly turned him over to the doctors, explaining the boy's situation as best as he could. Toushiro quickly found himself relieved of his Zanpakutou, haori and shirt, and strapped down onto a plastic-lined bed. He tried to relax his taut muscles, knowing what was going to happen and already seeking to make it as painless as he could. So he focused on Rogers's voice, attempting to pay attention to nothing else even as a rubber mouth-guard was slipped between his teeth. The doctors were trying to oust the supersoldier from the room, and he was protesting vigorously, his worried gaze fixed firmly on the young shinigami.

Suddenly, Toushiro felt the desire to have the tall man by his side, an urge not particularly unusual for him so soon after the recall of his death. He thought for a moment, his pride and his base instinct clashing brilliantly in his head, before rather petulantly deciding that he needed the support. Damn his pride – this was reminding him too much of the bullet wound which had eventually killed him, and he needed to block that out as soon as possible if he wanted to be functional for the next twenty-four hours.

And damn Yamamoto too for giving him this assignment.

He reached out as best as he could with his wrists secured to the bed, his face tight.

"Rogers-san…Need something…to focus on." he called around the guard in his mouth, and then the captain was let through to sit at Hitsugaya's side.

"You know, you can call me Steve if you want." The broad-shouldered captain said, taking the boy's hand and rubbing his thumb over Hitsugaya's pale knuckles as the doctors broke off the bloody arrowhead protruding from the young man's back. Toushiro stiffened momentarily, then forced his body to go slack again, though his grip on Rogers's hand stayed firm.

"Okay…" he said, his voice distorted slightly, trying not to watch as the two men tending to him took the arrow shaft as gently as they could and prepared to remove it. "Okay…I'll do that. It's not normal in Japan but- ngh!"

The slick black shaft slid painfully through the layers of muscle and skin with a brusque tug, and Hitsugaya couldn't stop the sharp, choked cry of pain that leaked from his gut. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut, trying to block out the sharp throbbing, and bit down as hard as he could, grateful for the rubber guard in his mouth now. But it was quick, and he gradually started to relax, releasing his death grip on Rogers's fingers.

"Easy, Toushiro, it's over," Rogers said, reassuring him in a very straightforward manner. "They're going to stitch it up now."

Hitsugaya shook his head, trying to dislodge the mouthguard from where his teeth had dug into the pliant rubber. He spat it onto the plastic, gasping.

"It's alright, I can close it," he said, his voice somewhat strained. "I already finished with the symptoms of electric shock."

The doctors seemed confused by Hitsugaya's words, but they said nothing until Rogers began to undo the Velcro loops binding the young captain to the bed.

"Captain Rogers, you can't do that." one of them said, somewhat annoyed. "We need to close the wound before he can lose any more blood, and we need to make sure that he stays in place. Besides, he's going to need an IV."

Hitsugaya sat up gingerly, his head spinning, a faintly-glowing hand on the bloody puncture mark, and batted the two doctors away with surprising ease.

"Oh, quit whining," He said irritably, allowing the bright light to radiate from his palm and sink into his skin. "I've had far worse than this before. In fact, I could've just broken off the shaft and kept fighting if the bastard who shot me hadn't used some electroshock arrow to disorient me. Probably would've killed me had I been a normal person."

Rogers smiled, amused, and the two doctors watched in shock as the wound began to close underneath Hitsugaya's ministrations. It didn't take long for the bloody puncture to close completely and then Toushiro stretched experimentally, testing his handiwork. He nodded approvingly.

"Unohana will be happy with that one." He said, pleased, then slid off the bed. He swayed dizzily; nearly collapsed. But Steve helped him steady himself, then handed him his shirt.

"Thanks, Rog- Steve-san. For coming after me." He said, quirking his lips upwards in a sort of quizzical smile. Steve smiled back, refusing to release his stabilizing grasp on the young man's shoulder.

"It's nothing, Toushiro." He said steadily. "I was worried when we saw Loki's plane leave, so I was on my way down anyhow. But you should probably lie down and rest for now. Our doctors know what they're doing. And honestly, son, your skin was nearly the same color as your hair when I found you, and you were still enough to be a corpse. Scared the living daylights out of me."

Toushiro slowly slipped his shihakusho top on and tucked it into his obi, then clumsily pulled himself back up onto the stiff white bed, clutching at his temples. His head was sore from both blood loss and the lingering pain of the zap of electricity. He hurt, both mentally and physically. And he'd realized what had been gnawing at him earlier, realized the source of the shame and anger that surged through his blood.

He'd failed. Rogers had asked him to ensure that Loki didn't escape, and he'd failed because he'd held back. For the first time in nearly forty years, he'd botched a mission. And now he was wounded _again_ , his brain and body still jittery from the electrical overload.

What a shitty week this was turning out to be.

"You're right," he grumbled weakly, angry with himself for feeling so pathetic after failing in the task he'd been set. "I feel like shit. A piece of pathetic shit with enough of a goddamned headache to freaking _obliterate_ any of the bitching idiots on this planet."

Steve's eyebrows disappeared into his hairline.

"That was a bit…extreme. And uncalled for." He said carefully. "You do realize that boys who look your age don't usually spout swearwords like that, especially in the presence of adults."

Toushiro groaned tiredly as the doctors pressed him back to the bed again and slipped a pillow beneath his aching head. But he stayed still, gritting his teeth and glaring at the ceiling as the pair of doctors slipped an IV needle into the underside of his arm again and wrapped it with a protective layer of gauze.

"I'm nearly a century old, Steve-san. And old men do whatever the hell they want regardless of what the whippersnappers like you think, so humor me and shut up." He snapped dryly. Steve had to hide an amused grin.

"Besides, I failed." He said, his voice quieter now. "You asked me to keep an eye on Loki, and I let him get away. I'm considerably more than pissed with myself right now."

Steve frowned and put a hand on the young man's shoulder.

"Don't let it go to your head." He said calmly. "The man who shot you was a SHIELD agent who was under Loki's mind control. You would've had trouble with him anyhow. Besides, you took out four guys by yourself. Hawkeye just caught you off guard."

Toushiro just smiled and shook his head.

"Steve-san, I was barely using even the barest scraps of my full abilities when I was fighting. Hawkeye only shot me because I let myself get careless." He informed the man cautiously. "I can sense others when they approach me. I knew he was there, but I still let my guard drop. That is completely unacceptable for one of my caliber."

Rogers blinked in surprise, and Hitsugaya closed his eyes, his headache gradually dulling as the saline drip did its work.

"You can sense others?" he asked. "What about objects?"

Hitsugaya shook his head, knowing that Rogers would next ask him about the Tesseract.

"Not unless it possesses a soul, and I doubt the Tesseract has one of those." He said wryly. "Think about what my job is."

"Macabre. Ghastly. Morbid. Would you like me to go on?"

That was Stark's voice, and Toushiro's eyelids flicked up, glancing at the door to see Tony Stark standing there. Concern was written across the man's face, and Toushiro realized with a start that the man wore scattered pieces of a complicated suit of armor. It had several major dings and scratches marring the scarlet paint – he'd obviously been fighting, or at least ground to a pulp under an anvil.

"Stark." He said, inclining his head the barest amount. Tony threw him a mock salute.

"Hey kid. You know, I'd really be interested to see if you can fight without getting yourself hurt." Stark mused aloud, clunking further into the room. "It kind of worries me that you're stuck on IV fluids all the time."

Before, Hitsugaya would have certainly bitten the human's head off for such a comment. But now he felt his opinion of these people softening somewhat, and he could sense the true anxiety behind the billionaire's abrasive front, so he only rolled his eyes.

"I'm probably thrice your age, _kid_." He retorted, raising a snowfall eyebrow. "Besides, I'm fine. Just dizzy from blood loss."

Stark nodded, then cocked his head to the side.

"Do you have any armor you could wear?" he asked curiously. "Because it seems that your style of fighting leaves you open to take a lot of damage."

Hitsugaya shook his head and rolled his eyes. The ceiling suddenly became extremely interesting and he glared intently at it, willing someone, _anyone_ to use their head. If he hadn't been wearing any armor when he'd fallen onto their ship, why would he have some now?

"No." he snorted derisively. "Remember, nobody on this ship has seen my true powers. Wearing armor, especially if it's like yours, would only slow me down and wear away at my stamina. Suffice to say I'm capable of… _high_ -speed movement. I'm just used to humans being a lot less dangerous than you all."

Stark appeared to be thinking this over, and he rubbed his bearded chin absently, as if he was thinking hard. Then he snapped his fingers.

"I could make something lightweight, then, similar to chain mail and weave it with something elastic so it won't get in his way…" he muttered, pacing slowly. He continued in this vein for several moments, and Toushiro vaguely caught the words 'electric' and 'temperature resistant'. Then he looked up, glancing at Toushiro with something unnamable and watery glinting in the corners of his eyes.

"Mind if I fit you for something considerably more bulletproof than silk, then?" Stark asked suddenly. "You can have a hand in design if you want."

Hitsugaya raised an eyebrow, thanking Rogers as the captain shifted the elevation of his bed so that he didn't have to crane his head to look at the billionaire.

"Why?" he asked, feeling somewhat defensive of his shihakusho. "What's the point?"

Stark pointed at him, glaring with an unusual intensity.

"Because my girl will wring my neck with her bare hands if she discovers that I let a kiddo like yourself go into battle without something protecting your skin." he said irritably, shaking a finger at the young man. "Besides, if you're really a captain in some ghost army, then lounging in a hospital bed all the time doesn't really suit you."

Rogers swung around to look at Stark with a strange expression on his face. For the first time, Hitsugaya noticed that Stark's hands were shaking somewhat. His brow furrowed, and a sense of dread stole up his spine, reality taking his breath away with a cold slap. He knew that expression. He'd worn it once, when one of his Thirteenth Seats had leapt in front of him to protect him from a Hollow's slash. The man had been cut in half. So…who had it been to upset Stark?

"Liar. You're concerned about him." Rogers said, somewhat incredulous. "You want to protect him. What brought this on?"

Stark shifted uncomfortably, trying to compose himself. But finally, he gave up.

"Loki killed Phil." He said brokenly. "I saw them carrying him up on a stretcher…and then you said the kid was down there while we were jumpstarting that turbine. Anyway, I was sent up here because Fury wants to talk to us. Well, the two of us that are still here anyways. Three if you count the kid…"

He seemed on the verge of breaking down. Toushiro shifted in the bed, reached out with the hand that wasn't attached to the intravenous tube, and motioned for Stark to come closer.

"Tony-san." He said quietly. "Is this the first time you've lost a man?"

Stark stiffened and he whirled on the young shinigami, his face dark.

"Don't talk about us like we're soldiers!" he snarled. "We're not soldiers! Phil is dead, and he's not some number!"

Suddenly Toushiro shot to his feet, anger gathering in thunderclouds across his snowy cheeks and pale brow. He positively glowed with fury, with slow, simmering wrath. Fear shot through Steve and Tony, and they surreptitiously backed away a pace.

"Do not speak to me of death's pain, Anthony Stark!" Hitsugaya roared, lightning flashing in his glare. "I am the only one here who understands it fully!"

A flicker of white-blue light ran over his lean frame, and without even the slightest flash of hesitation or dizziness the young captain crossed to where Tony stood just inside the doorframe, his cold irises glowing faintly. He gripped the IV stand loosely in one hand, pulling it with him as he stepped forward.

"Tony-san, listen to me well." He said calmly. "Would Phil-san want for you to grieve over him with a madman on the loose?"

Slowly, Stark shook his head.

"Doesn't stop me from getting worked up though." he said softly. Hitsugaya's expression became compassionate, cool sympathy evident on his young features.

"I know. I've felt it many times before, and it never gets any easier, believe me." He said gently, forcing himself to remain upright despite the way the world tipped about him. "But turn that sadness into willpower; turn your grief into determination. Fight so that Phil-san's sacrifice wasn't in vain. Do you understand?"

Stark nodded slowly, and Rogers reached out, clasping the upset genius's shoulder compassionately. For a moment, they all simply stood there, silence filling the air. But Tony didn't seem to be one for silence, and so he looked up, returning his attention to Hitsugaya.

"Will you let me make you some protective gear, then? For my own peace of mind?"

Hitsugaya considered for a moment. He wasn't one to accept gifts, but if it would ease Stark's grief, he would allow the man to make anything. Doesn't mean he would wear it, but…A thought struck him, buckling his fervent dislike of humanity with its enormity.

He cared about them. Stark's grief was actually painful for him to watch, a throbbing ocean of empathy swimming in his heart, and without warning he realized that he'd been consoling the billionaire not moments ago. Stricken, he closed his face off as best as he could, trying to quell the pang of sorrowing loss in the arctic wastes of his soul. When had he allowed the humans into his cold heart? How had he grown attached? He'd put up so many walls that he could even close out Matsumoto and Hinamori, yet he couldn't hold his defenses around these people. Why? With Kurosaki's friends he'd been cordial because they were _Kurosaki's_ friends, and they couldn't possibly be fully human with that complete moron as a friend. But these SHIELD agents? There was no denying their race. And he _knew_ humans were cruel creatures – he'd freaking had experience with that.

So…why didn't this match up? Why was his experience with them running so against everything he'd believed for over a century? He'd seen death in all of its nasty forms, stood guard over the dying as they slowly grew to see him hovering over their heads. And many of the deaths which he'd been present for, including his own, had been violent – caused by murder and neglect and war, all products of humanity.

How could anyone argue that the human race wasn't cruel?

So how could he possibly be swayed by these few individuals?!

"Damn you people." he said incredulously, shaking his head with something akin to disbelief. A slow flame of amusement crept stealthily across his face, making itself visible without his knowledge or permission. He couldn't help liking some of the SHIELD agents, despite his detestation of humans. So he sighed and gave in. "Fine, make what you want. But whatever you do, it'll have to be able to withstand extreme pressure due to rapid acceleration and extreme cold temperatures. My body temperature can drop into the negative fifties when I'm actively unleashing my reiatsu, and if my limiter is released I can push it down to the negative one-hundred and forty degree range. Heaven forbid I actually have to release my Zanpakuto – it can get much colder. All Celsius measurements, by the way."

Stark stared at him for a moment, then whistled softly. Hitsugaya felt his ego inflate somewhat, a knowing, smirking gleam entering his jade glare.

"Damn." He said appreciatively. "You'll have to teach me what the Japanese term means later, but I get the basics. What's the lowest possible temperature range you'll experience?"

Toushiro smirked wickedly, baring his white teeth with a sort of vicious laughter.

"About 10 degrees Kelvin." He said, lifting his chin with a sort of especially amused conceit at the stunned expressions. "Only when I'm really mad, though. I have to go beyond my normal limits to get that far down."

Tony nodded faintly. "Okay…Extreme speed, extreme cold…probably extreme impacts too, considering the spectacular way you got on board…anything else?"

Toushiro considered for a moment.

"High-energy discharge." He said finally. "I can basically use reiatsu to make things blow up – sort of like a laser blast, I'd suppose. And it all needs to be flexible – I can't dodge properly otherwise. And fluid resistant – I hate getting bloodstains out of my clothing. It's tedious and fusty."

The two men both gave him strange looks, and suddenly Rogers's eyes narrowed. He sighed deeply.

"Now I know why the rest of the universe seems to be scared of you and your people."

* * *

Read & review! Please and Thank you!


	7. Adolescent Friendship

**A/N:** This story is nearly done on my end! Now I just need to upload...

P.S. - Insert Disclaimer here.

 _"Thoughts"_

 _"~Artificial Communications~"_

 _"Zanpakutou speaking"_

 ** _"Japanese"_**

* * *

Hitsugaya was not allowed to leave the room with Steve and Tony, much to his dismay. The doctors carted him off to the small compartment Fury had marked as his room and forced him to lie down (again). They then proceeded to examine the careful stitches in his side, trying to determine how much the wounds had healed. Toushiro tried his best to remain patient as he was checked over, despite the growing sense of annoyance. And so he lay still, wincing slightly when the stitches were gently removed from the raw pink scars in his flesh.

Finally, they left, putting him under eyeball orders to stay in bed and not play with the IV in his arm. Hitsugaya scowled deeply as they locked his door, watching them go with a sense of contempt. But he obeyed them for the moment, wanting to acquire all the sleep that he could before they plunged into battle. Because with Loki on the loose, he knew it was inevitable that war would come. So he closed his eyes, deciding to catch a nap while the brief peace lasted.

It didn't take long for him to drop off into a light doze, his hands resting lightly on the white blanket covering his lithe figure. The sunlight felt warm on his face and it nudged him into gentle slew of peaceful dreams. His expression unclenched, the tension evaporating from his lean muscles, and the ageless, world-weary lines that hardened his face and removed him from time's eroding touch vanished, revealing a vulnerable adolescence that quavered in the sunlight.

It was in this tempered, serene state that the Avengers – for they had taken up that name by this point – next came upon him, a few hours later.

The small group peered through the glass window in his door with some trepidation. Toushiro's brow wasn't furrowed by care while he slept, and his lips were slightly parted, as if about to speak. His white hair swept down over his forehead, the snowy fringe hanging in one eye, and he appeared completely at peace. There wasn't even the smallest inkling of stress present in his features, and that lack of tension showed the softness of his jawline and the roundness of his cheeks, the last remnants of the chubby infancy still clinging desperately to his moon-pale skin. Abruptly, his face flickered, eyes moving underneath closed eyelids, and he murmured something inaudible, dreaming gentle dreams.

"My God." Romanoff said softly, breaking a long, watchful silence. "He's actually a child, isn't he?"

Nobody answered her; they all could see the same childlike sweetness on the adolescent shinigami's young face. Barton stared helplessly through the glass at Toushiro, letting out a long breath through his nose.

"Did I do that to him?" he asked cautiously, pointing at the IV stand by Hitsugaya's bedside and the steady drip of fluid into the boy's arm. Rogers glanced at him, debating with himself, then nodded reluctantly.

"The second time, yes. But you shouldn't worry. He healed himself with some type of…I suppose it must have been magic, or something like it. He's probably just tired. Poor kid's lost a lot of blood these past few days." Steve said calmly.

Barton's fists clenched tightly, and Tony looked at him, cocking an eyebrow. He sighed.

"Barton, I know you haven't been with us recently, but you've got to trust us when we say that there's something about that kid that puts us all on edge." Tony said. "Mostly because Thor seems to have this ridiculous idea that the boy is strong enough to neutralize an entire Asgardian city without breaking a sweat. But…he's also already dead."

Barton stiffened in surprise, and Rogers nodded grimly, backing Tony's statement.

"He told us that he was killed during World War One." The captain said. "So naturally, Mr. Stark here decided to validate the kid's story. And he nailed it. Tony found a picture of that kid in a banner-carrier's uniform from early 1914. The entire squad was wiped out in the early days of the war."

Barton stared at the boy sleeping peacefully in the bed, a new kind of disbelief on his face, and Romanoff moved to reassure the archer.

"He's not going to harm us." She said in her usual blunt manner. "He's definitely hostile towards us, but he won't harm us. In fact, his people have given him direct orders to help us. Besides, if Thor says his powers are formidable, you'd better believe him."

Hawkeye's eyes narrowed in pure disbelief, and he was about to protest, but Tony stepped forward, cutting him off.

"I don't think he feels quite so antagonistic towards us anymore, Natasha." He said cryptically. The spy looked at Tony in askance, then turned to Steve when no explanation was forthcoming. The supersoldier coughed awkwardly.

"He…he let Tony make him some protective gear, and tried to console him about Phil's death." Steve admitted quietly. "And he's started calling Tony and I by our first names. I don't know how traditional he is…but I know that means something in Japan."

Natasha's eyes widened in something akin to shock, and she looked through the door again, staring at the sleeping preteen. Her lips pressed together in a thin line.

"What _did_ you drug him with, Stark?" she muttered. Tony looked offended.

"I don't drug people, Spidey." He said snidely. "That's your area."

Suddenly, Stark's face changed, and he appeared to recognize something.

"Did Thor or Steve fill you in on the kid's story?" he asked curiously. "You weren't there when he told us why we could never get along."

Natasha shrugged.

"I have my ways." The redheaded woman said offhandedly, though the look she exchanged with the supersoldier wasn't lost on anyone in the group. "Should we wake him up now?"

Tony nodded, sighing, and then the genius man adjusted the box beneath his arm and unlocked the boy's door, sliding it open.

"Yeah, let's wake up Sleeping Beauty here so we can get to New York before Loki wrecks it completely." The billionaire's tone was dry, but his expression was serious, so nobody made any comment. "Steve, if you would wake him up while I unpack this. I need his input on something."

The genius set the box down on the lone, small table and quickly took out several pieces of a smooth-looking dark-grey material that appeared to refract light in such a way as to draw attention away from the wearer. Then he quickly pulled a tape measure from his pocket and took a few quick measurements, considering the new numbers for a brief moment before turning back to the metallic-seeming cloth.

"I kind of need him awake." The genius muttered. "Steve, if you could."

The captain nodded, then sat down on the edge of Toushiro's bed and gently shook him.

"Hey, Toushiro." He called softly. "Come on, we need you to wake up. Stark knows where the Tesseract is."

Hitsugaya groaned, brow creasing in irritation, and swatted blindly at the soldier before him. He mumbled something incoherent, clearly still half-asleep, and Steve shook him again, a little more roughly this time.

"Wake up, son." he called again. "Come on, we've got to get the Tesseract."

There was a flash of light, a shout of rapid-fire Japanese, and suddenly Rogers was thrown against the wall, golden triangles of light pinning his arms and midsection to the cold metal behind him. Toushiro was sitting up in his bed, panting heavily, his emerald eyes clouded by the dregs of sleep. His palm was glowing brightly, but as Rogers watched, the light dimmed and the young shinigami appeared to fully awaken.

He blinked at Rogers in surprise.

"Aw, dammit." He said suddenly, waving his free hand absently. The triangles of golden light vanished, releasing Rogers. "I've got to quit reacting like that every time someone tries to wake me up. Sorry for that, Steve-san. Instinct."

Steve massaged his biceps ruefully and smiled.

"It's alright, Toushiro." He said calmly. "I should've expected you to react like that. But what _was_ that? I've never seen anything like it."

Hitsugaya folded his hands in his lap, cocking an eyebrow.

"Kido." He said simply. "The high-energy discharge I was talking about earlier. That was a binding type. Be glad I didn't hit you with Haien, or Shakkaho. You would have been reduced to a pile of ash in milliseconds."

The young shinigami ignored the looks of surprise from the four adults and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, moving his hand to wrap around the cold steel of his IV stand. Then he stood, leaning on the metal stand for balance.

"So." He continued dryly. "Considering that you're _all_ here, I'll assume you've come to ask for my help with finding the Tesseract?"

Romanoff sighed.

"Close." She said, her expression flat. "Unfortunately, we know where it is. And Loki's going to activate it at any time now. We were going to ask if you wanted to come along on the mission."

Barton glanced at the white-haired young man, then back at the redheaded woman.

"I don't know about that anymore, Natasha." He said calmly. "And this isn't anything on the young man's fighting skill, but he's still on an IV drip. And…the arrowhead I'm missing right now is one which delivers a 500,000 volt shock – it should have been fatal."

The corner of Hitsugaya's mouth curled up, and he jerked the IV from his arm without flinching, a flicker of green kaido running over his palm to seal the small puncture. Then he took hold of the collar of his shihakusho and his face became grim.

"That's cute." He mocked dryly. "Very cute, Bowman. You really think a single arrow can stop me? I'll show you what stops me."

Quick as a flash, he pulled the black top off, exposing the raw pink scars marking his pale side. He drew a finger over them dispassionately, ignoring Barton's choked gasp. Then he tapped his right shoulder, sighing profoundly. A layer of thin, flesh-colored ice fell away, shattering on the floor. The room got very quiet. A jagged, indented line ran across the boy's lean chest, starting at his right shoulder and slicing him all the way down to his navel. Then Toushiro turned around, revealing that the stark scar tissue made its way across his back as well, mirroring the path of the scar on his chest.

"I was betrayed recently." He said flatly to the window. "By someone whom I once trusted. He gave me this and left me to die. But I survived. So do not think your mere arrows can fell someone like me."

Hitsugaya slipped his shihakusho top back over his shoulders and moved a hand back to the long scar. A layer of ice crept up his pale skin, once again obscuring the rutted cleft in his lean body. He glanced over his shoulder, his jade glare harder than diamond and more piercing than a needle.

"I mean no offense." He said quietly, his tone low. "But you cannot even begin to comprehend what it means to be a shinigami. Your concern is appreciated, but pointless. I have seen death in all of its myriad forms, fought with injuries much worse than an arrow strike and still slain my opponents, even watched as entire nations ignited by war burned beneath me. The captains of the Gotei 13 do not fall so easily to the same wounds as humans, and what affects your particular species often holds no thrall for us."

Barton nodded jerkily, staring at the young man before him in something akin to shock, but more incredulous. Hitsugaya gave him a short bow.

"Toushiro Hitsugaya, Captain of the Tenth Division of the Thirteen Court Guard Divisions." He introduced himself calmly. "And you are?"

The archer inclined his head back, seemingly trying to follow the Japanese custom while utterly unsure of himself.

"Ah…Clint Barton. Alias Hawkeye." He replied cautiously, slightly horrified by Toushiro's admission of the ghoulish nature of his occupation. "What are the Thirteen Court Guard Divisions?"

Hitsugaya smiled dryly.

"The military organization which I and many other shinigami belong to." He answered coolly. "There are thirteen divisions, as implied, and each division acts as an independent entity under the command of one individual."

Clint's eyes narrowed, trying to fit together the mental image in his head.

"And you are a captain in the Tenth Division?" he asked. "Impressive for one as young as you. I'd guess that your superior officers give you a hard time though, given how young you look."

Toushiro blinked, cocking his head to the side, then walked over to the hook where his haori and Zanpakutou had been hung up. The amusement on his face was obvious, and he made no move to hide it.

"A good guess, Barton, but that is incorrect." He said, smiling wryly, a keen, predatory glint in those cold emerald eyes. "You are thinking in terms of your military. In my society, the captains are the ones who lead their divisions. Translated into an American-styled rank, you would likely call me something akin to a commanding general. The entirety of the Tenth Division is under my command, and _no one_ else may order around my subordinates. The captain of the First Division is my only superior – but if he gives no orders to me, I can act as I please, as long as it in accordance with the laws already standing. And even the First Division captain is wary of my power. I am the youngest captain in our history, and the  only captain whose power is still maturing. I will be dangerous indeed when I am fully grown. Unfortunately, that won't be for another thousand years or so, if Unohana's last prediction was correct."

The four Avengers all stared at the boy in shock, but he just smirked, pulling his haori over his shihakusho.

"The speed at which a shinigami ages is inversely proportional to the power which they wield." He said offhandedly. "Thus, as my power grows, the rate of my aging will slow. I should live to be several thousand years old if I do not fall in the line of duty. Yet those with no power age at a rate only slightly slower than a normal human."

For a moment, there was silence, and then Stark looked up at Barton and cocked a single eyebrow.

"Well?" the billionaire asked sarcastically. "Are you still skeptical, Barton?"

The archer slowly shook his head, wisely keeping his mouth shut as Hitsugaya tied his long blade to his back. Then Tony waved his hands in front of the shinigami captain's face.

"Hey, kid!" he said. "Question for you."

Toushiro growled under his breath, his slender, artist fingers wrapping threateningly around the hilt of his sword.

"That's Captain Hitsugaya to you, Stark." He snarled, a puff of cold air rolling from his mouth.

Tony shrugged nonchalantly, ignoring the boy's displeasure.

"Whatever. Anyhow, I'm almost done with the protective suit I'm making for you, but I don't know if you have any design preferences. You know, sleeve length, collar design and the like. I figured you'd probably want short sleeves because that would give you more freedom to swing your sword, but I thought I'd ask anyway."

The irritation in Hitsugaya countenance faded, though he did not stop himself from giving the man a well-practiced eye roll.

"Short-sleeve, you're right." he said. "And high-collar, if you don't mind. Taking a bullet to the jugular would be a nasty way to die again."

Stark nodded without looking at the young shinigami.

"Mmhmm." He mumbled absentmindedly, already starting to make the adjustments that Toushiro had requested.

Several shiny, metallic tools flashed across the dark grey fabric, and it rippled suddenly. Stark muttered something under his breath, something that sounded like a series of curses, but a few seconds later he tossed the dark grey fabric at the young shinigami. Hitsugaya caught it, then nearly dropped it when it tried to slide out of his fingers. He frowned, examining the garment curiously.

The material was a very dark-grey, almost black, and appeared to bend light around it, making it difficult to focus on. It was also incredibly smooth to touch, and hard enough to bruise when Hitsugaya prodded it cautiously. He lifted it experimentally. It was light – lighter than his haori, let alone his shihakusho. A brief flicker of an impressed grin eclipsed his normally expressionless face, lingering just long enough for the Avengers to see it. But then it fizzled out, as if he'd consciously repressed it.

"Thank you, Tony-san." Toushiro said. "This is very impressive. Can it withstand the temperatures?"

The billionaire raised an eyebrow and spread his hands wide. So he'd also noticed the intentional reversal of the young man's good mood – and apparently planned to stop the boy from continuing that practice, given his impending use of overdramatics.

"You're talking to the man who has an Arc Reactor implanted in his chest which not only keeps his heart beating but also can run a suit of weaponized, wearable iron." He replied in an unnecessarily grandiose manner. "Do you really think I can't make that durable enough to withstand you when you're playing with your toys?"

Stark pointed at the blade strapped to Hitsugaya's back, and for a long moment, everyone thought the young shinigami was going to murder the arrogant genius where he stood. But then Tony raised an eyebrow and Toushiro simply shook his head, his shoulders slumping, and gave a brief, disbelieving chuckle.

"Don't bait me, Tony-san," he said, smirking faintly. "I've got a nasty bite."

Stark nodded seriously.

"Chew toy, then? I'll go get Loki." he offered.

Toushiro couldn't stop the choked laughter that spilled from his throat, bubbling up from his gut in a childlike giggle of mirth. Behind his back, Steve's lips curled in a small smile, and Natasha's hard expression softened. It seemed they were managing to break through the icy shell.

"No, that's you…unless you get out." the young shinigami retorted, grinning wickedly. Tony held up his hands and backed slowly out of the door.

"Holy crap, he just laughed." Tony bantered easily. "Everyone, the midget captain just laughed. It's official. We're all going to die."

Everything stopped. Suddenly, the air grew thick, and a shadow gathered over Toushiro's pale face. He took a step forward, glaring at Stark with intended homicide in his emerald irises. His skin glowed faintly, the barest hints of the icy powers running through his veins sparkling like new-fallen snow. The room suddenly felt very, very cold.

"What. Did. You. Just. Call. Me." he demanded, glaring at the hapless man. Stark's eyes went wide.

Oops.

"Nothing whatsoever." He denied quickly, teeth chattering slightly. "I said nothing."

Toushiro backed off, smirking triumphantly, and the temperature returned to normal, warmth seeping back into the room. Steve sighed with relief; the boy hadn't returned to his cold mask yet.

"That's what I thought." Hitsugaya said, somehow managing to look down on the taller man despite his petite/childlike/small stature. "Now, get out of here. All of you. I'm not taking off my clothes with your eyes on me."

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What did you think? Read & Review! :)


	8. Broken Walls

**A/N : ALERT!** This may be the last update for a little while - finals + vacation = no time. However, I DO have the rest of this story written out, and it WILL go up - feel free to PM me until it does. It just might be very sporadic for a while.

For a disclaimer, see Chapter 6.

* * *

"Now, get out of here. All of you. I'm not taking off my clothes with your eyes on me." Toushiro barked cheekily, trying not to smirk at Tony's terrified expression. He could sense the amusement from the others easing the atmosphere, and so the sassy snap just slipped out, breaking his usual stoic mask. He barely noticed.

Steve reached out, ruffled the boy's hair affectionately, then turned and followed Tony out before Hitsugaya could yell at the American captain for touching his fluffy white locks. Clint gave the boy a jaunty salute, as did Natasha, who also winked, and they both left to stand outside Hitsugaya's door. Then Steve moved to stand in front of the plexiglass-paneled door, covering the windows with his back to give the young man inside some privacy.

Hitsugaya changed quickly, slipping out of his haori and shihakusho with ease. Putting on the dark grey, bulletproof suit was considerably more difficult though – Toushiro quickly found that the top half was nearly skintight, and the bottom, while not exactly skintight, it was fitted almost to the point of being constricted. But once he had the bodysuit on and had successfully zipped up the front, he found that it moved like water, acting as a second skin. He quickly crumpled himself into a few complex positions, testing the flexibility of the garment. It performed admirably, exceeding Toushiro's expectations.

 _"_ _New favorite scientist."_ Toushiro thought. _"Not that it's hard to beat Kurotsuchi though."_

Then the boy looked in the box Tony had brought with him, curious, and saw a pair of flexible, athletic boots made of the same bulletproof material in a slightly darker shade of grey (if that was possible), two lighter grey belts, a sheathed dagger, and a pair of long, dark gloves with silicone gripping-beads on the palms and fingers. Slowly, Toushiro measured his foot against the side of one of the boots. It fit easily, and the young captain cocked an eyebrow as he realized that the billionaire had specially constructed all of the items he was now holding. His stony expression wavered, the barest hints of a touched gentleness crossing the young man's pale face. So he put on the boots and the shorter belt, attached the dagger's sheath to his belt, and stood, contemplating the other belt. It was much longer than the one riding his hips…

His eyes widened, and he turned to his sheathed Zanpakutou, pulling the gold chain from the indigo sheath and then clasped on the grey belt. Then he slipped on his haori, and belted his sword to his back. The sheath fit snugly, riding just between his shoulder blades, and he drew his sword, experimentally flicking the blade through the indigo scabbard, dissolving it into the icy steam of his burning cold reiatsu. The belt still stayed snugly against his chest, strapped over his shoulder and across his back. He nodded to himself, a smirk gracing his lips, and then re-sheathed his blade and turned to leave.

Then it hit him – yet again, the Avengers had turned his icy walls into rubble. They'd even gotten him to laugh, for cripes sake! He pressed one hand to his temples, massaging the skin there in an explosive mix of sadness, anger, and confusion. Logic and emotion – when at war within him – had almost unbalanced him before. It had made him careless enough to fall to Aizen's spells and trickery, and to turn his blade against Hinamori. Because when the two battled within him…emotion always won. Logic could stalemate the other for a while, but eventually the cold fury of his heart always won control.

He knew that eventually he'd fall prey to the same expanding desire to build the peculiar brand of friendship that connected to all of his current friends and allies. Toushiro sighed in defeat.

It wasn't often that he'd outwardly admit that he was wrong about something, but now…he thought he'd have to. Eventually.

He stepped over to the door and tapped three times on it. Steve moved aside, and he strode out proudly, his haori billowing about his calves. The four Avengers stared at him, mostly smirking. With the dagger at his hip and the sword on his back, Toushiro looked infinitely dangerous, save for the youth of his features. It was an odd paradox. But they had no time to stop and chat, or compliment the young shinigami on the sleekness of his appearance. Rogers bent his head, eyes darting from side to side to scan the corridor for approaching people or watching cameras.

"Everyone have what they need?" he asked softly. Hitsugaya stared at him for a moment, eyes narrowed, then sighed.

"This is against orders, isn't it?" ha questioned neutrally. The four Avengers winced, confirming his suspicions, and he sighed again, a fond smile crossing his face this time.

Oh, for crying out loud, I'll need my communicator." He said, rolling his eyes. "Unless Stark has made an earpiece which I can tune to my communicator's frequency, so we can all hear each other."

Stark nodded, pulling several black headsets from his pocket and handing them out.

"Already calibrated." He said, satisfied. "Turn that dial on the side to switch from our common frequency to your special one. You can contact your people whenever you want, and you can talk to us with it. We'll be able to hear everything you say."

Hitsugaya examined the smooth piece of metal briefly, then hooked it over his ear and brought the mouthpiece around to rest against his cheek, the small microphone settling just below his lower lip. Then he turned it on and adjusted the dial, wincing a burst of sudden static hit the airwaves. It cleared quickly, however, and Hitsugaya spoke into the headset, his tone dark.

 ** _"_** ** _This is Tenth Division Captain, Hitsugaya Toushiro. Division Twelve, do you copy?"_**

For a moment, all was quiet. But then with a crackle, the Twelfth Division came through.

 _~"Captain Hitsugaya, this is Third Seat Akon. I copy. What seems to be the problem?~"_

 ** _"_** ** _Loki escaped. SHIELD thinks he's in the city of New York, so I and a group of humans are heading there now to examine the situation. If it occurs that Loki is there and is currently using the Tesseract device to summon an alien invasion, I will be requesting seated officers for backup, and likely a squadron of barrier-specialists from the Kido Corps to section off the city."_**

 _~"Copy that. I will relay your orders and assemble a team of officers from varying divisions for you. Any requests?"~_

 ** _"_** ** _Have Matsumoto and/or Hinamori in command – they know how I think. And if it turns out that we need a barrier, I'll want a close range and distance fighter protecting each of the Kido Corps' members casting the barrier. Matsumoto and Hinamori are decent with long range, so make sure you choose close range fighters from the Tenth and Fifth to go with them. I don't want any pair to be uncomfortable fighting alongside their partner, so pairing must be between divisions. Keep the team on standby at the Senkaimon until I give the order, then fix a location 100 meters from my reiatsu signature. I am also requesting the Limiter Release to be on standby in case I must revert to Operation White-out. Are you familiar with the details of White-out?"_**

 _~"No sir, not yet. I will request a briefing directly after this. Anything else?"~_

 ** _"_** ** _The humans will be able to hear our conversations. If they ask for backup, you are required to send one man to their location – separate from the barrier team. I believe Captain Steve Rogers will be leading the human team. Make sure that all sent over are proficient in English, as all commands from this point onwards will be given in English."_**

 _~"Yes sir. Akon out."~_

Toushiro nodded slowly as the transmission ended, and he turned his attention back to the Avengers, cocking an eyebrow. He turned to Romanoff, who had also adjusted her communicator to Soul Society's frequency and had been listening in.

"Agent Romanoff, did you catch all of that?" he asked calmly. The spy-woman paused for a moment, carefully considering him.

"Yes." She finally responded. "It is a good strategy. How did you come up with it so quickly? It all seemed…spur of the moment."

Toushiro blinked once, holding in his surprise, then sighed.

"My greatest skill is not my sword, Agent Romanoff." He said patiently. "Nor is it my skill in kido, nor my Zanpakutou's releases, though that is not to say I am not extremely formidable in those areas as well. No…my greatest weapon to date is the quickness of my mind and my skill in strategy. It was not only my peers at the Shinou Academy that labeled me a prodigy – I was named to be such by the Fourth and Twelfth Divisions, which both specialize in medical and scientific research and treatments."

Hitsugaya's gaze turned towards Stark, and he smiled tightly.

"Never underestimate the power of sheer intelligence, yes?" He said softly, and the Iron Man smirked, striking a pose. Romanoff and Hawkeye exchanged amused looks, and Steve sighed, blatantly, fondly exasperated by the way Tony had begun to strut.

"Well then." Rogers finally interjected. "Shall we go?"

* * *

Hitsugaya really _hadn't_ expected them to illegally commandeer a quinjet, though he really wasn't surprised – rather amused, actually. But here he was, sitting in the cargo hold with Captain America – a.k.a. Steve Rogers – and waiting with tense muscles and baited breath as they flew to New York. He supposed the young soldiers' faces had been funny, especially when Rogers pointedly told them off for trying to stop them. And then Iron Man – a.k.a. Tony Stark – had fired up his weird foot and hand rockets and flown away, leaving the gawky young men supposed to be guarding the planes to stare after him, and the three other Avengers had piled onto the quinjet in the lull of Tony's distraction. Barton had thought the whole thing was hilarious. But watching him snicker in the pilot's seat had made the three others on the quinjet slightly nervous.

 _~"Yo, guys…I've landed on the Stark Tower. The primadonna jerk is here, along with a mind-controlled scientist and the Tesseract in its portal-maker. I'm going in."~_ Suddenly Tony's voice echoed over their earpieces, making them all stiffen. They were about ten minutes from Manhattan, perhaps slightly more than that. Steve pulled his shield from his back.

"Be careful, Tony." He cautioned. "Loki's unpredictable."

 _~"And I'm not?"~_

"…Point. Don't do anything stupid. We'll be there in a few minutes."

 _~"Don't get yourself worked up, old man. I'm a big boy – I can take care of myself."~_ Tony replied, his voice dried by his usual sarcasm.

The transmission ended there, and all was silent in their earpieces for several minutes longer. During the waiting period, Hitsugaya leaned back against the smooth metal of the quinjet's walls and closed his eyes, tipping his face back. Hyourinmaru coiled around his consciousness as he broke the surface of his inner world.

 _"_ _Are you not ready for the coming battle? You are unsettled."_

 _"_ _Hopefully Tony-san can stop it before it gets too bad. But if necessary, you know what I am prepared to do."_

 _"_ _So I do. So what troubles you?"_

 _"_ _I cannot believe the kindness shown to me thus far. My duty requires me to place my life on the line, but now I…"_

 _"_ _You care for the humans, young one. You know this."_

Toushiro tensed unconsciously, drawing a concerned look from Rogers.

 _"…_ _But that has to be wrong."_ he replied, mind swimming. _"It's not possible. Not after what happened to me. They're humans. Hell, something on their ship even triggered a total recall for me, and you_ know _how I feel about the living after one of those episodes. How could I care about any race which wallows in others' misery like they do? But…I know that I do care for them, so how on Earth can I resolve this conflict?"_

 _"…_ _Were they really human?"_

 _"…_ _What are you saying?"_

 _"_ _You associate humans with evil because of mankind's cruelty to you and because your job requires you to be present during exceedingly violent deaths. But what if those who caused you pain in your life were_ _ **not**_ _human?"_

 _"_ _Say what you mean plainly – I have no time for riddles."_

 _"_ _Was Aizen a shinigami or a monster? He was cruel to you and others, even more so than humans were. Yet you have no hatred towards shinigami. Think about that, little one, and I believe you will find your answer quite easily. You already know it. Now you must admit it."_

The dragon gently nuzzled his master, touching his snout to the boy's forehead, and then gently faded, taking Toushiro's inner world with him. Hitsugaya opened his eyes, brow furrowing, and he bit his lip uneasily. Rogers and Romanoff watched him carefully, worried by the display.

"Are you alright, son?" Steve asked, his tone calm though his face betrayed his anxiety. "You look a little tense."

Hitsugaya closed his face off, drawing himself into his shell and solidifying his resolve. He…he had to do this. Hyourinmaru was right – his _heart_ was right, and he had to acknowledge that or he'd explode again.

"I'm fine." He said quietly, trying to gather together his thoughts and order them. "…I've lost comrades too. It's not something I-"

Captain America tapped him lightly upside the head with his shield, interrupting Toushiro with an almost brotherly fondness. And Hitsugaya looked up, startled into vulnerability.

"I'll watch your back if you'll watch mine, Toushiro." The captain said, his voice firm. "We're friends, and that's what friends do."

And then Hitsugaya understood. He smiled faintly and nodded, the dark-grey suit he wore shimmering darkly in the low light. Steve retreated a pace, still waiting for Stark's signal, and the silence became deafening. Toushiro needed to say something. It might be the last chance he got. He reached up, tapped the "on" switch on his headset and took a deep breath.

"Tony-san?"

 _~"Bad time, kid! Give me a sec. JARVIS, lock on to that signal and transfer it to the Mach 7!"~_

Toushiro paused, waiting on tenterhooks for the Iron Man to respond. Finally, he did.

 _~"Alright. Situation's gone critical, as you military people say it. Alien weirdos are invading as we speak. Signal is given, yada yada yada. What do ya want, kid?"~_

"I want you all to hear something."

Romanoff and Barton glanced over their shoulders, confused by the seriousness in the boy's tone. But then he spoke, and everything became clear.

"They weren't human." He said quietly. "In World War I. I thought they were…but they're too cruel. I'm…I'm sorry I assumed you and all of your kin were like them."

Barton looked somewhat confused, being the only one of the Avengers who was ignorant of the boy's past. But Natasha, Steve, and Tony said nothing for a few long minutes, somewhat subdued by the quiet declaration. Somehow, inexplicably, the icy walls had fallen. Somehow, Hitsugaya had reconciled his hatred with the newfound image of humankind presented to him.

Natasha smiled thinly, thinking about her own past and sighing. But she wasn't that person anymore. Perhaps Toushiro was beginning to understand that people could change.

"Well then." She said, her tone laced with a trace of warmth. "If that's what you've decided, then please call me Natasha. And you can call Agent Barton by his first name too – I'll give permission for him."

A trace of a smile lifted her lips.

"After all, he did shoot you. He kind of owes you one." She said, glancing at the pilot next to her with that playful glint in her eyes. Clint glared back at her.

"I did _not_ do that of my own free will." He grumbled. "That was Loki's fault."

 _~"For god's sake! There's an invasion going on here! A little help would be nice."~_ Tony suddenly interjected, sounding somewhat cross. ~ _"Oh, and kid? Thanks for deciding not to hate us. I'd have to take that suit back – because I wouldn't want you killing me with it later – and I really don't have any use for it. Not my size."~_

Hitsugaya cocked an eyebrow at the nonchalant answers, taken aback by the playful atmosphere suddenly surrounding him, and Steve shook his head, trying hard not to smile.

"I think what everyone is trying to say," Captain America said, his voice faintly amused, "is that we're glad you've decided to give us a chance."

Toushiro rolled his eyes, scowling like a thunderstorm. He might as well go the whole nine yards…

"Oh, please." He snorted. "You've all _had_ your chance. You damn idiots were just stupid enough to…oh, for crying out loud, do you remember how I told you that each Zanpakutou is born from their wielder's soul?"

Steve nodded, and Tony's sarcastic affirmative came over the headpiece. Toushiro sighed.

"A Zanpakutou assumes the true form of their wielder's personality. Whatever shape it takes is a direct reflection of their master's true self. And mine…well, my Hyourinmaru is a massive dragon. And by extension, so am I."

Silence promptly ensued, each of the Avengers present staring at him in flabbergasted shock. Toushiro scowled deeply.

"And dragons really, _really_ hate it when the things they care about are threatened." He said stiffly, eyes blazing. "You all were _stupid_ enough to make me care about you. So you don't  get a second chance. You're stuck with me. So don't any of you idiots get yourselves hurt, understand? As the saying goes…"

Steve smiled suddenly, a light dawning in his eyes as Tony sighed resignedly over the headsets.

"Never tickle a sleeping dragon!" he said eagerly. "I understood that reference!"

Toushiro's answering grin was vicious, and his face twisted into a dangerous snarl.

"Exactly."

Clint suddenly looked up from the controls, slight incredulity on his face.

"Um…guys? Invasion?"

* * *

Thank you to everyone who has reviewed - it really helps me to see what needs clarification and what doesn't when you all ask questions.

Please keep reviewing!

~avtorSola


	9. Misunderstanding and Decision

**A/N:** I'm on a roll! Probably not the last update this week - I'll make time. I don't want Leafy to point a stick at me any longer! ;)

Enjoy!

 _"Thoughts"_

 _"~Artificial Communications~"_

 _"Zanpakutou speaking"_

 ** _"Japanese"_**

* * *

 _Clint suddenly looked up from the controls, slight incredulity on his face._

 _"_ _Um…guys? Invasion?"_

Toushiro tapped at the dial on his headset, changing the frequency to the secure channel established between the headsets and Soul Society.

"Akon, do you copy?"

 _~"It's meeee, Tai~cho!"~_

"Matsumoto! For crying out loud, use proper protocol!"

 _~"Aw…you're no fun at all…I copy, Taicho. Do you want us to open the channels with your human allies?"~_

"Yes. Deploy kido barrier teams as well. Tony-san has reported that the Tesseract has opened the portal. Bring over all requested firepower."

 _~"Yes sir! Opening channels of communication now. As requested, all shinigami deployed can speak English. However, there is a slight wrench in your plan…"~_

"…Did Kurosaki insist on coming?"

 _~"Yes sir, he did. He says he can speak English fairly well, but you_ know _he's a lone wolf-fighter. He said he'd be roving backup."~_

"Dammit, Kurosaki…He can't take orders to save his life. He's a liability, Matsumoto. His power isn't suited to fighting in this city – he'll destroy too many buildings with his Getsuga Tenshou."

Suddenly, Steve interrupted.

"Miss Matsumoto, Toushiro, how about you put the problem soldier under my command? I have experience leading a troop, and I'll be leading the charge to evacuate civilians. If he helps to reassure the general populace, he won't be able to do too much damage."

Toushiro considered – Kurosaki would probably see the need for that, and being half-human himself he'd probably be glad to meet another living person with abnormal abilities.

 _~"Probably a good move, Taicho."~_

"I know. Alright Steve, you can take Kurosaki. Be ready for him to argue with you, though. He's thickheaded. Worse case scenario, tell him that he can either do as he's told, or I'll kick his sorry ass into next year."

Steve nodded, his face set.

"What does he look like?"

Toushiro cocked an eyebrow.

"Orange hair, brown eyes, sword as tall as he is with barely an excuse for a handguard. His full name is Ichigo Kurosaki. I think he's seventeen now. He's a shinigami-human hybrid that can use Hollow powers – be wary if he shows any signs of Hollowfication. He'll pull a bone mask over his face. That's your cue to _get the hell out_. He can't control his reiatsu, and it might just crush you if it gets too strong. Also…I'm not sure if the citizens will be able to see him. I have a theory on why some of the SHIELD agents can see us…but it doesn't apply to the people in the streets. If that happens, tell him to focus on taking out the Chitauri around you."

Steve nodded again, frowning.

"I will. And thanks for the warning."

Toushiro then turned to Clint and Natasha, his green glare hard. The two had been successfully firing at the Chitauri for several minutes now, weaving the ship through New York's streets with surprising ease as they approached the Stark Tower. But it was time for something to happen. His adrenaline was already starting to stir in his blood, the battle rush that never failed to leave him until he was certain of the current quiet. Thus…It was time for the dragon to bare his fangs.

"Hang on, tight Steve. I'm opening the cargo hold." He asked calmly. "I'm getting out."

Natasha whirled around in her seat, blue eyes wide.

"Are you crazy?" she demanded. "You can't just jump out of the plane now! We're only three hundred feet in the air – a parachute wouldn't have time to open!"

Toushiro ignored her, pulling the lever which would lower the hold's floor and walked to stand at the end of the lowering segment. The wind hit him hard, blowing into the quinjet's hold with unrelenting force. But the young shinigami captain was immovable, cold as the unyielding glaciers. Steve clung to a steel bar bolted to the wall with all his might, hanging on almost for dear life. His face was twisted in horror, watching as Toushiro was slowly lowered to stand at the edge of a windswept precipice. The boy's eyes were closed, and he almost appeared peaceful.

"Toushiro!"

The pleading cries came simultaneously from all three of the Avengers on board. So Hitsugaya tipped his head back to look over his shoulder, smiling with no little amusement and no little fondness. Why were they all so nervous?

"I am a shinigami." He said, cracking a puzzled smile. "There is a reason others fear us. Have faith, Natasha-san. I'll be fine."

And then he let himself pitch forward, arms outstretched as if to embrace the empty expanse of air before him.

Steve's panicked shout echoed faintly in his ears for a brief moment, but the wind was in his face and then he was weightless. He smiled widely. He belonged in the sky. Then he gathered the reishi he needed and stopped, standing fifty feet above the nearest solid surface. His haori swirled about his calves like a white cloud, soft puffs of snow billowing from his feather-light steps upon the gathered reishi beneath his feet. Shattered cars lined the streets, and the sidewalks and buildings sported the scars of battle. And then, the Chitauri were advancing on him, on the throngs of screaming people running from them as fast as they could.

 _~"Toushiro! Toushiro, answer me!"~_

Hitsugaya sighed loudly, making his irritation known. The resulting drop in temperature and the sweet sprinkling of snow dripping from the corners of his haori drew the humans to a baffled halt below him – _but it was sunny, where was the snow coming from?_ – and the Chitauri to a confused halt before him, wary of his annoyed scowl and effortless (apparent) levitation.

"The hell do you want?" he barked, smirking into the headset. "I told you to have a little faith."

 _~"That doesn't mean you've got free reign to scare us like that! Damn you, son, my heart nearly stopped when you jumped!"~_

Suddenly Tony interjected, his tone a little panicked.

 _~"Jumped? Wait, what just happened? Did I miss the party?"~_

 _~"Toushiro had the brilliant idea to leap out a moving airplane without a parachute – three hundred feet off the ground."~_ Steve replied, his tone considerably angry. ~ _"And he's got the audacity to laugh at me because I had the heart to worry about him."~_

Toushiro stiffened, his brow furrowing, and he shifted a hand to the headset, suddenly anxious. He hadn't realized they would panic about something like that – it had been a long time since he'd experienced the frailty of human flesh.

"Steve, I didn't mean it like that. Shinigami do things a little…differently than humans do and…well, I didn't think it would bother you so much." he tried to explain, his tone hesitant, confused.

 _~"I'd damn well hope so! Don't do anything stupid; Clint's turning the jet around so we can see you."~_ Steve replied bitterly. Tony said nothing, but Hitsugaya could tell the billionaire was probably on Steve's side. And so the radio silence ensued. And it put Hitsugaya in a bad mood. Unfortunately for them, the Chitauri did not realize this.

So when one approached him, flying on its scooter-like aircraft, Hitsugaya drew his sword and decapitated it in one swift motion, his gaze burning. Green fluid leaked from its body as the thing fell to the ground. The humans below him screamed in disgust and horror and moved away, unaware of the young shinigami protecting them overhead. The Chitauri regarded him warily for a moment, and then one approached him slowly, its skeletal face grotesque in its malformation. Hitsugaya looked at haughtily, a sneer of repulsion crossing his pale face. From nearly four hundred meters away, the three other Avengers watched the unfolding scene in bafflement.

"What is he doing?" Natasha breathed incredulously. "Why have the Chitauri all stopped in front of him?"

Steve and Clint exchanged glances. Neither said anything – they didn't know. So when the lone Chitauri delegated to approach the young shinigami spoke, they listened, trying to hear what the alien thing was saying through Toushiro's headset.

Hitsugaya kept his bearing aloof and cold while the alien approached him, his eyes narrowed. It seemed wary of him – rightly so, he thought, his bad mood dissolving any sense of cordiality that he had.

"What the hell do you want, alien?" he snapped, a bite of his bitterly-cold reiatsu lashing out alongside his words. The alien soldier hissed in distaste.

"What arrreee yooouu?" it hissed at him. "Theee Chitauri wiiiiissssh to know so weeee maaay parlaaay with yooou'rrrre kiiind. Weeee waaaant to knowww howwww yoooouu staaaand on the aiiiiir."

Hitsugaya laughed coldly, his tone cruel and harsh.

"I am a shinigami, alien." He said viciously. "There will be no parlay, unless you wish to exchange your worthless lives for the appeasement of my wrath!"

The Chitauri soldier hissed in shock and slight fear, but Hitsugaya was too far gone in his silent rage. He raised a hand, icy-cold light shining in his eyes.

"Hado 33! Sokatsui!"

A flash of blue fire shot from the tips of his slender fingers, instantly incinerating the alien before him and raging outwards to create a swath of smoking destruction. When the dust cleared, charred alien bodies lay sprawled on the ground and the molten bodies of cars glowed red hot, melting the scorched asphalt beneath. Hitsugaya scowled deeply, then turned to the humans clustered beneath him. Their eyes stared through him, unseeing, but for some reason he felt visible to them, felt painfully and utterly visible.

He snarled at them, green eyes blazing with suppressed fury, and allowed his Spiritual Pressure to flood the street, ice and frost crackling over cars and the like.

The throng of people backed away from the spreading patches of winter, perhaps sensing the dragon burning in his soul, and fled as he'd wanted them to, scrambling to get away from the advancing army and the invisible white-haired boy floating above their heads. Hitsugaya paid them no mind, simply pointing at the advancing horde of aliens, raising his hand almost lazily.

Watching from where the quinjet was busy firing up at Loki on the Stark Tower, it almost seemed like the young captain was entering some sort of apathetic trance.

"Hado 4. Byakurai." Toushiro said softly. The bolt of white lightning crackled from his hand, lancing through five of the oncoming aliens and continuing on until the white crackle of light slammed into a nearby building and fizzled out. The fractured stone fell noisily from the hapless building. And Hitsugaya moved forward, his face hardening into solid ice.

 _~"Taicho, do you copy?"~_

"I copy, Matsumoto. What's your status?" Hitsugaya replied, absently slicing through several of the Chitauri with one fell sweep of his blade.

 _~"ETA thirty seconds. Where should the barrier be set up?"~_

"…I haven't been in Manhattan since I was a Sixth Seat in the Second Division, and even then I needed a map just to know which direction I was facing." Toushiro said, brow furrowing, deflecting several of the Chitauri's blue energy blasts with a deft parry. "I'll defer to Steve and the others on this one. Tony-san, Steve-san, where's a good place for a barrier?"

For a moment, there was silence, and then Tony replied, his voice somewhat taut.

 _~"Capsicle said 39_ _th_ _Street would probably be a good place for one."~_ the billionaire-genius-playboy said, annoyance lacing his tone. ~ _"It's got to be a good distance ahead of where the Chitauri are swarming from."~_

Matsumoto paused for a moment.

 _~"What's going on over there, Taicho? They sound irritated with you."~_ she asked calmly. ~ _"Did you do something callous again?"~_

"Matsumoto, I don't do callous things very often." Toushiro snapped, annoyed, blasting another line of the alien invaders out of his way with Byakurai. "I jumped out of an airplane, and they all freaked on me. I don't get why they're all so upset."

 _~"Yeah, well most people would panic if they saw one of their friends leap out of a moving plane without a parachute! For a minute I thought you were committing suicide!"~_ Steve suddenly interjected, his tone angry.

Matsumoto suddenly burst into laughter, and during that time Hitsugaya felt the reiatsu of the Senkaimon spike off to his left. He sighed with exasperated relief.

 _~"Steve-san, he didn't mean anything by it. Shinigami pull stunts like that all the time without a second thought. Danger – and death by extension – has very little meaning for us. I mean, think about our job description. If we die, we're just reincarnated into the living world."~_ she chuckled. Suddenly she paused, her voice became a little sad. ~ _"Hitsugaya-taicho has spent most of his life in Soul Society, and most of that time he's been a shinigami. It's what he's grown up knowing. I can guarantee it wasn't really his intention to freak you out."~_

"Matsumoto!"

 _~"Taicho, they deserve to understand you, at least a little. You're their contact, after all."~_

"I've already told them about what happened in 1914! And what happened in 1942!" he nearly shouted, cleaving one of the Chitauri completely in half as his reiatsu spiked angrily. It wasn't really the Avengers that he was angry at – it was himself for being stupid enough to forget about their relative ignorance. And Matsumoto as well – she had no business talking about his private life. That was _his_ prerogative. "They shouldn't need to know much more than **_that_** to freaking understand why I might act peculiar compared to what they're used to!"

For a moment, there was radio silence, and then Matsumoto tried to speak, her tone gentle and coaxing, as if trying to calm a wild animal.

 _~"Taicho, I-"~_

"Hitsugaya out. I need silence." he spat, turning the headset off despite everyone's sudden protestations and then he launched himself headfirst into the onslaught of Chitauri. It wasn't long before his sword was spattered with acidic green blood. In fact, he got so wild that the Chitauri began to avoid him, circling him in a wide berth. But it was futile for them. The dragon had woken, and nothing short of death could stop it. Toushiro went to the ground with a light tapping of his feet on the pavement, blasting his way through the aliens crawling over the abandoned cars from every direction. They wouldn't seem to stop coming, and though he was slowly clearing the street, pushing his way towards the Stark Tower, it seemed to be a losing battle. There were too many Chitauri soldiers flooding through the wormhole hovering above Stark's skyscraper.

 _"_ _Hyourinmaru, any chance that you have a handy technique up your sleeve that could help me?"_

 _"_ _Nice try, but you're not able to use my full powers just yet. You know that."_

 _"_ _I beg to differ."_

 _"_ _Physically able, little one. You still have the body of a child. Mentally, you are ready. But your body cannot handle my final techniques yet."_

 _"_ _So…there's no way out through you. Okay. I'll cast around for another idea – these numbers will eventually overwhelm us."_

Toushiro let loose a savage cry as he sliced through another of the Chitauri, Hyourinmaru's cold steel parting the alien flesh like butter. So far he hadn't taken any damage, but he knew it wouldn't last long, especially if…

His eyes widened.

"Holy shit…" he whispered.

The scooter-ships were only the beginning. This thing…was a monster.

Hitsugaya tensed, ready to go after the gigantic airbeast, but the ground beneath his feet exploded in a brief supernova of blue energy, and he was sent hurtling backward. He crashed into a nearby automobile, his head cracking hard on the metal surface, and for a few moments he was disoriented, his vision swimming. Glass crumpled beneath his back, but thankfully Stark's protective suit held up well. Not even the largest sliver of glass could damage it. Given that it was expected to hold up against bullets, however, Toushiro found himself rolling his eyes at his own relief. He untangled himself from the twisted metal, grunting with simultaneous annoyance and effort, and stood. This time he shifted both hands to grip the hilt of his sword, glancing around warily. In the time that he'd been briefly dazed, the Chitauri had surrounded him, more of the blue-lit staffs leveled at his chest. They snarled threateningly at him, approaching as a group. Toushiro scowled deeply, then spun his blade clockwise.

"Hado 58! Tenran!" he shouted, watching with a sick sort of satisfaction as one fourth of the aliens circling him were torn apart by the raging winds. And then the spell continued, clearing many of the advancing aliens from the street in front of him and tearing through the abandoned cars. Then he Shunpoed through the confused aliens, and cut the remains of this wave down as quickly as he could. He had to get to that monster before it hurt the others.

Suddenly, golden light crossed the sky and closed just above the wormhole, a wave of pure, strong reiatsu which had Toushiro inwardly cheering. The Kido Corps had finally made it to their posts and cast the barrier. Took them long enough, honestly. But then again, the situation did call for a massive barrier, complete with escape portals and a spatial distortion so that all of the shinigami could release their reiatsu freely. He couldn't exactly judge them on their timing – especially since doing something so complex himself would take far longer. Then Hitsugaya leapt effortlessly into the sky, padding the soles of his dark boots with reiatsu. He could sense that Thor and Banner had made it inside before the golden walls had gone up, and he could also sense Kurosaki casually eliminating the enemy from where he was stationed by Steve and Natasha. All the other shinigami he'd called for were busy guarding their assigned barrier-caster.

But…it was all too much. They wouldn't make it, and Steve and the others would all be killed. A sudden grasping pain surged through him at the thought of the Avengers' deaths, a mind-numbing wave of denial and anger at the mere idea. He couldn't let that happen. He _couldn't_. Toushiro fisted his hands in his snowy locks, his young face twisted, pulling mercilessly at his hair in simultaneous frustration and sorrow. He could feel the powerful rainstorm of defiant emotion swelling up in his chest, and suddenly he saw it, a glimmer of hope for his newfound friends. A way he could save them.

Everything fell into place in his mind. His heart stopped briefly – he knew what must be done. And it wasn't something he wanted to do.

* * *

Read & Review!


	10. White-Out

**A/N:** Spoiler - there are more chapters. And another installment of this universe. So don't get too excited. :P

ALSO - Please vote on my poll! I've had some reviewers who wanted to see some Matsumoto-Hitsugaya interaction/mortification in front of the Avengers...sooo...yeah.

Anyhow, enjoy!

* * *

 _Everything fell into place in his mind. His heart stopped briefly – he knew what must be done. And it wasn't something he wanted to do._

He turned his headset back on, his anger now spent on the Chitauri, and listened carefully to the Avengers' conversation as he Shunpoed leisurely in their direction, tracking the massive airbeast and the idiotic stuntman himself flying along in front of it.

 _~"I think the kid finished up where he is."~_ Tony said, his tone somewhat admiring. ~ _"His heart rate has gone back down."~_

 _~"How do you know_ **that** _, Tony?"~_ Natasha asked, sounding a little put off. ~ _"…Did you put a monitoring system in the suit he's wearing?"~_

 _~"Well…yeah. Nothing creepy, just some basic medical stuff, like heart rate and blood pressure so I'll know if he gets hurt."~_

 _~"And body temperature as well?"~_ Steve asked dryly. ~ _"You practically had a seizure when you found out he could drop his core temperature to measure up with outer space!"~_

 _~"Okay, fine, that too. But at least we'll know if he's running a fever or something."~_ Tony defended himself like a pouting child. ~ _"Whoop! Off to your right, Thor!"~_

 _~"My thanks, friend!"~_

 _~"Anyhow, has Banner arrived yet?"~_ Tony asked, mostly ignoring Thor's comment.

 _~"He walking up right now."~_ came a heavily accented voice – one Toushiro recognized despite the broken English. ~ _"Tony-san, you realize Toushiro going to kill you when he find out? About suit?"~_

 _~"Yeah, I know. The kid doesn't have many friends, does he?"~_ Tony asked offhandedly, clearly meaning it as somewhat of a joke. But Kurosaki knew better and sadly enough, Toushiro knew he was right.

 _~"No, he do not."~_ Kurosaki said, his tone somewhat contemplative. ~ _"Toushiro is very smart and very strong, but he not know many things about friends. He always working, always yelling for I to call him Captain. I think he hide behind his ice mask because he scared of being hurt."~_

 _~"So the kid's shut himself off then? Why?"~_ Tony asked, now curious, though a pang of sadness did enter his voice. Hitsugaya gritted his teeth, silently listening to the conversation taking place about him.

 _~"Think about it, Tony. The boy is the equivalent of a general in an army of soldiers whose duty it is to guide dead souls to the afterlife. Why do you think he's shut himself off? He's probably seen so many people die that he's decided to close himself off so that he doesn't have to experience any more emotional pain."~_ Steve said, his tone slightly stiff. ~ _"Which is why it worries me that he feels protective of us."~_

 _~"Why would that worry you, Captain?"~_ Thor questioned curiously. _~"Is it an ignoble thing to possess strong allies on Midgard?"~_

 _~"No, Thor. Quite the opposite, really. Yet, think about it. If Toushiro closes down on emotional contact to protect himself, yet he wants to protect_ us _, what's the_ _ **first**_ _course of action that he'll take should one of us be in danger?"~_ the American supersoldier asked, his tone still stiff. Natasha sucked in a sharp breath, understanding, and Clint swore softly under his breath, as did Banner. Ichigo stayed silent – he already knew of Toushiro's incredible overprotective streak. So Tony was the only left out of the loop.

 _~"Cap, honestly, just tell us straight! Some of us are busy dodging sky-trilobites!"~_ Tony bit out, his tone slightly panicked. Hitsugaya could see him now, along with the other six people on the street below him and the gigantic monster-beast chasing after him.

"I'd sacrifice myself for you, Tony-san. That's what Steve-san means. And he's right. If it was your life against mine…I'd choose for you to live." Toushiro answered quietly, crouching down on the edge of a concrete and glass precipice. For a moment, there was absolute silence, and then Tony stuttered out a response.

 _~"K-kid, that's not really…uh, not really something that you…"~_ he stammered. But Ichigo cut him off.

 _~"You not going to convince him."~_ Kurosaki said bluntly. _~"Once he have idea, he stubborn like…like horse, I think you say it. You have to make him be unconscious to make him do what you want."~_

"Stubborn as a mule." Toushiro said, correcting Ichigo's statement. "And Tony, the next time you want to spy on me, just remember that I'm going to be the one who saves your skinny ass from the airbeast on your tail."

 _~"Kid, Banner can probably take care of…"~_

"Oh, shut up already."

Hitsugaya leapt off of the skyscraper where he was perched, performing a graceful front flip to take out a Chitauri warrior zooming by on its scooter, and landing lightly on his feet thirty feet above street level. He drew his sword with a casual flick of his wrist, carelessly holding the blade in one hand as he passively watched the approaching monstrosity. Tony flew towards him in a sort of mad panic, trying to lead the massive thing towards the Avengers (plus Ichigo and Toushiro).

 _~"Are you crazy? Get out of the way!"~_ Tony demanded. _~"We'll be cleaning up bits of you!"~_

Toushiro rolled his eyes and prepared to breach his stores of reiatsu. The street was quite deserted now, as all of the civilians were busy running towards the golden barrier, where the shinigami were letting them out in droves. Shikai shouldn't be a problem, then.

"Oh please, don't insult me. Straight up, on my mark, Tony-san. One…"

 _~"Toushiro!"~_

"…two…"

 _~"Come on, son, that thing is probably a hundred times bigger than you!"~_

"Three!"

Tony reluctantly changed trajectories and peeled off, shooting straight up into the clear blue sky, and Hitsugaya wrapped his left hand round the hilt of the blade, holding the Japanese blade in two hands. Then he raised it over his head.

"Souten ni zase!" he shouted, ice flaking from the blade, his body temperature taking a sharp dip. He could feel the cold spreading through him, chilling his blood and slowing his heart, frost creeping up his skin and clinging to his every breath. And Hyourinmaru's name fell like the stroke of death from his lips, full of wild rage and the fell fury of a blizzard.

"Hyourinmaru!"

The ice dragon formed, glistening like crystals of diamond in the clear sunlight as the water and ice and snow ran from Toushiro's gleaming silver blade as it flashed down, severing the air with the bite of winter's frigidity. And then the dragon exploded, coiling his massive icy girth in spiraling loops as he flew through the streets, the terrifying roar of the beast echoing, a pulsing throb of wrath and joy and quietness all rolled up into one. The ice dragon hit the advancing Chitauri airbeast squarely in the muzzle and engulfed it in frozen water, dragging it down to the earth and blooming into towering spires of glacier-like ice. The Avengers plus Ichigo shivered at the suddenly arctic temperatures gusting through the streets, watching with wide eyes and open mouths as the dust and glittering snow hovered in the air when the Chitauri airbeast crashed to the earth. The frozen monster lay still in its prison of ice for several moments. And then Toushiro's lips curled into a contemptuous sneer and he flicked the tip of his blade up.

The ice shattered, fragmenting into a thousand gleaming pieces of what once was a Chitauri airship. And the icy rubble dissolved into powder, blanketing the street in glacierlike frost and snow, an innocent disguise of the dragon's destructive power.

Hitsugaya turned back to the seven people behind him, his eyes alight. Clint fainted, though he was caught by Natasha before he hit ground, and the others stood dumbfounded. Banner even looked faintly green – though not because of the Hulk.

"Don't doubt me again." Toushiro warned lowly. "That was only the first level of my power."

Tony stammered out what could have been a 'yes sir' and Steve closed his eyes tightly, pinching himself as if to prove that _no, this is not a dream, and yes, that's a glacier in Manhattan._ Even unflappable Natasha was stock-still, swallowing oddly. In fact, the only person who wasn't frozen in a combination of astonishment and 'holy-shit-was-that-even-real' was Thor – and he'd gone whiter than Hitsugaya's messy mop of hair.

"…I think my father left out some details about your abilities…" he mumbled vapidly. "Even I would not be able to destroy one of those with one blow – or so little effort…"

Toushiro smirked smugly, inwardly basking in the flabbergasted glow that the others were giving off, feeling quite satisfied with himself – he did still have the Gentei Kaijo on, after all. But Ichigo just cocked an eyebrow as the others gaped, slinging his massive blade over his shoulder, and sighed deeply.

 ** _"_** ** _Toushiro, did you seriously feel the need to cover the entire street with enough snow and ice to put Greenland to shame?"_** Ichigo asked, his tone exasperated but affectionate, the only one who was not astounded by Hitsugaya's power. **_"Yet I'm not allowed to use Getsuga Tenshou?"_**

 ** _"_** ** _It's Hitsugaya-taicho!"_** Toushiro snapped, the casual use of his name by the substitute shinigami prickling over that same nerve which it always struck. **_"And the difference, Kurosaki, I that I can freaking control my own attacks to some degree! My Shikai and Bankai are much less waywardly destructive than yours!"_**

Hitsugaya rolled his eyes and absently gored one of the Chitauri through the eye socket with Hyourinmaru's point. **_"Besides, I just told you not to_** **fire** ** _Getsuga Tenshou. Can't you use it without shooting it off the edge of your sword like a massive, boomerang-shaped wrecking ball?"_**

 ** _"…_** ** _fine, I get it."_** Kurosaki grumbled playfully. **_"You're another temperamental, bratty genius. Go figure."_**

Toushiro glared at him, the temperature dropping rapidly, and Ichigo hurriedly continued, changing the subject to avoid frostbite. **_"But actually, that's a pretty good idea about the Getsuga. I think my Hollow has done that before…Wait, maybe I did too!"_**

 ** _"_** ** _If truth be told…"_** Toushiro mused quietly. He glanced up at Romanoff briefly, his gaze tense. He knew she'd been listening. "…I don't think we'll make it, even with your help. Sure, Kurosaki, you and I are very powerful, but even a thousand men with sticks can kill two men with guns. Eventually one or both of us will be caught off guard and killed, or overrun. And then it's only a matter of time before the barrier falls, and the city's defenses are breached. Even with the Avengers here, we can't hold out forever."

Natasha folded her arms, her gaze serious. The humans-plus-Asgardian seemed to have recovered during the brief Japanese dialogue, though Toushiro did notice that Tony seemed distinctly in awe of him now, as did Clint – who was still on the ground gasping from Natasha's wake-up kick to his crotch.

"Well, if you see inevitable defeat this way, then what can we do?" she questioned roughly. "I'm not going to take this lying down. None of us are."

Steve looked back at them, his shield still ringing slightly from an earlier hit. Banner stiffened, his eyes narrowing as he stared down the boy before him.

"You have a plan already figured out, don't you?"

Slowly, Toushiro nodded.

"It's called Operation White-out." he said softly. "Only if I saw no other way. It's emergency protocol in the Tenth Division for the last possible resort."

As one, the Avengers took a precautionary step forward; ready to forcibly hold the boy down should he prove about to do 'anything stupid.' Ichigo's advice rang in their ears, his matter-of-fact testament to the boy's stubbornness at the forefront of their thoughts. Tony landed on the ground, flipped his visor up.

"What were you thinking, kid?" he asked. Suddenly, a loud, groaning roar echoed from the wormhole, two more of the flying trilobites galumphing through the warped fabric of space. Everyone's attention snapped to the sky, breathing curses under their breath. And Toushiro closed his eyes, touched the headset he was wearing softly.

"Division Ten, do you copy?"

 _~"This is Third Seat Takahashi. I copy, Hitsugaya-taicho."~_ his Third Seat said in her monotone voice. Hitsugaya took a deep breath.

"Requesting Limit Release. Operation White-out's countermeasures are set to take effect in t-minus two minutes."

 _~"R-roger that. Approval for Gentei Kaijo has already been received. You are in the clear for Operation White-out."~_

"Copy that. Over and out."

 _~"Captain Hitsugaya?"~_

Toushiro paused, unused to the initiation of conversation from the usually stoic Third Seat. But then again…they both knew what Operation White-out was.

"Yes, Takahashi?"

 _~"Unohana-taicho is on standby. She will arrive in the World of the Living immediately after the backup measures are implemented. She will minister to you in the case of your survival."~_

Hitsugaya laughed briefly.

"I appreciate the sentiment, but the chances of that are fairly slim." He said lightly. "If I don't walk away from this, I trust you can keep the division straight for me, Takahashi. Hitsugaya out."

 _~"I won't fail you, Hitsugaya-taicho."~_

The young shinigami glanced up at the flood of incoming Chitauri, his expression smoothing out. He exhaled softly. Suddenly, Rogers grabbed his shoulders, pulling the blue hood away from his head. He forced the smaller soldier to look at him, his eyes wide. They'd all heard the conversation between the Tenth Division officer and their adolescent comrade.

"Toushiro…what are you doing?" Steve whispered.

The white-haired young man smiled somewhat nervously, then hesitantly gave the supersoldier an awkward hug. The others watched, Romanoff with a stone expression, Tony in confusion and slight panic, Thor with simultaneous wonder and despair, Banner in anger and sorrow, and Clint in frozen disbelief.

"Sacrifice play." Toushiro answered the man gently. "Try to shut down the device in my absence. Kurosaki, you, Thor and the Hollow inside Banner can probably take out the large airships without too much trouble, but I'll need one of you to cover me. Preferably Thor – his range is widest. And Tony, if you could also help to watch my back. What I'm doing will leave me wide open for attacks."

Steve drew back and shook the boy hard, as if trying to knock sense into the young man.

"What are you planning, Toushiro?! Tell me!" he yelled. Toushiro gently brushed his hands off his shoulders.

"The Tesseract's beam can be halted by an equal and opposite force." He said quietly. "My reiatsu is great enough and controlled enough that I can counter it. But I can only hold out for so long before I fall. You must find a way to shut down the Tesseract in that time. Do you understand?"

Ichigo bounded forward, seizing the young captain by the collar and hoisting him upright.

"You can not do this!" he snarled. "I will not allow you!"

Toushiro sighed.

"It is already done, Ichigo." He said softly. "You're stronger than I am when it comes to brute force – you're better suited to fighting head on, and you wouldn't be able to focus your reiatsu enough to repel the beam. I'm the only one who can do this in time to make a difference."

Kurosaki drew back slightly, at a loss for words in the face of Toushiro's calmness. All of the Avengers were looking at him in the same stunned light, horror or blank sorrow on their faces. And the young captain smiled faintly, the expression hesitant on his cold face.

"Hey, I can still make it." he said, attempting some sort of lopsided cheer. "I can buy you about an hour, but if you shut the damn thing off before then…I should still be alive."

Kurosaki turned away harshly, appearing to be too upset to speak. Tony just stared at the boy, watching vaguely.

"White-out." he said blankly. "Like when the world is covered in snow and everything is white?"

Toushiro nodded, his gaze fixed on the ground.

"Almost." He said softly. "It's more like what happens after a blizzard ends. When there's still snow and ice hanging in the air, but the wind is gone and the world is covered in snow and ice; when the only color that seems to exist is pure white, light bouncing off every surface. That's what Operation White-out is – my last stand. When the winter rages of my inner world finally still, and I can close my eyes and see starlight glimmering above my head as everything around me just…fades."

The Avengers stared at him, slowly realizing that he had given orders to prepare a suicide mission. _His_ suicide mission. As that revelation fell upon them, Steve and Tony exchanged long, horrified looks, and Thor seemed nearly deadened by sorrow. Clint and Natasha, who were more hardened than the rest given their professions, merely looked regretful, sad but somewhat jaded. And Banner…Banner shook his head, then shakily spoke, his voice trembling.

"Hey, Hitsugaya…" he started uncertainly. "If…if you make it…would you give me permission to do whatever I have to do to keep you here? I mean, alive? I have medical experience, so I just thought…"

Hitsugaya's lips curled up, and his lower lip began trembling slightly, a trace of apprehension entering his jade gaze.

"Of course." He said quietly, his tone quivering. Suddenly the Avengers became aware of the fact that he – dare they say it – looked scared, acting like the child he appeared to be for the first time. Even though he was trying to smile, the effect was merely diaphanous bravado. And it was heartbreaking to see him trying so hard to be so strong.

"And if I don't come back then…would you take my body back to my subordinates? I…I want to be buried back home." He whispered, his voice almost inaudible.

Ichigo returned his chocolate glare to the young captain's face, expression torn by anguish.

 ** _"_** ** _I'll carry you home in my arms, if nothing else."_** He vowed.

 ** _"…_** ** _Thank you, Ichigo."_** Toushiro nodded weakly, the panic rushing through him a fire of worry in the pit of his belly, fear that he would be too slow. **_"When you see Matsumoto and Hinamori…tell them…tell them that if I ever loved anyone, it would have been them."_**

Ichigo choked up at that, but he kept a strong front for the boy trembling before him.

 ** _"_** ** _Only if you don't come back."_** He snapped. **_"I'll go Bankai so we can do this as fast as possible, and you can stop nullifying the Tesseract or whatever the hell it is you're doing."_**

Hitsugaya nodded slowly.

"Okay." He murmured to himself. "Okay."

He turned to Steve, Thor and Tony again, throwing them a sharp salute. All three of them looked extremely upset.

"I guess I'll see you later."

Then his gaze lifted upwards to the azure pillar of light and energy piercing the sky, and he leapt into the clouds. Thor flew up beside him, using the powers of his hammer, and smashed the approaching Chituari's faces in, clearing the way for the young captain. Toushiro Shunpoed through the New York skyline easily, his heart racing beneath his ribs and his mouth dry with anxiety. He'd died before, and it hadn't exactly been fun. Maybe the world could take pity on him this time and reincarnate him as a young boy with loving parents and some good friends. He hoped he deserved it; after all he'd been through. Maybe karma wouldn't be a bitch to him in his next life.

He unzipped the top of the bodysuit Tony had given him to expose the tattoo on his chest, now gleaming black as he held his fingers over it, waiting. One of the massive air-beast things was in front of him now, mouth open. His massive Spiritual Pressure should kill it – or at least slow its movements so the others could take it out. Toushiro's grip on Hyourinmaru tightened.

"Gentei Kaijo!" he yelled the incantation with renewed vigor, some of his fear melting away as the tight collar on his reiatsu broke apart, unleashing winter's full fury into the battlefield. Cold poured from him, icy blue light engulfing him completely in power and surging through his frozen veins with such force that a fraction of the contained power escaped, spiking off into the atmosphere. Suddenly he was struck by an odd similarity – the Tesseract's beam and his excess wave of reiatsu. They really were similar, weren't they?

So terribly alike…he almost thought about it for a moment, but then he remembered Steve and Natasha and Tony fighting for their lives below him, and he put the thought from his mind. He needed to focus!

The air-beast, as he'd predicted, wasn't killed by the sudden thickness of the atmosphere around it, but as Hitusgaya swung his blade casually it tore itself apart. So much strength had just been released that even the ripples in the air pressure was enough to slice it in half. Then he continued on, running towards the Tesseract's beam as quickly as he could. Iron Man and Thor circled him in wide, apparently unintended loops, simultaneously protecting themselves from his suffocating Spiritual Pressure and protecting him from the incoming Chitauri.

As the remnants of uncontained power faded from the physical plane, Toushiro reached the Tesseract's beam. The crackling energy felt unnaturally strong so close up, and Hitsugaya swallowed hard, trying desperately to stay calm. Panicking would not save his friends. And with that thought, he felt himself still – felt the battle raging around him gradually slow as time seemed to lengthen. The Chitauri swarmed through the opening in the portal, some gathering to watch him for a brief second before traveling on, but for the most part, they ignored him. He closed his eyes, touched the tip of Hyourinmaru's blade to the blazing blue column, and spoke.

"Bankai." He whispered, the name falling like frost from his lips. "Daiguren Hyourinmaru."

The great wings of ice unfolded from his back, the serpentine tail trailing from the base of his spine, and power rose unquenchable inside his soul. He let a smile curl his lips. And then he leapt into the Tesseract's beam. For a split second he blocked the beam completely and the portal seemed to close for a moment, but then the energy surged forth again and overpowered him. His mouth curled in a snarl, and he braced all of his power behind his sword as pure energy rushed past him, searing his body in painful flickers of light. But he would not, could not give up. With a loud roar, worthy even of the greatest of dragons, he flared his power to its maximum, pouring all that he was into _protecting._ And slowly, he began to triumph over the pillar of light. The energy beam reaching past him to maintain the wormhole started to flicker unsteadily as he blocked and repelled the Tesseract's power with his own, clashing against it in a battle of wills. The wormhole above him became unstable, alternating between closing too rapidly to watch and struggling open again. The flow of Chitauri through the opening ceased, dwindling to nothing. And then the portal sealed itself completely.

In the streets below, citizens began to cheer, assuming that the Avengers were prevailing. But the six superheroes were fighting with anger and sorrow in their hearts. Thor and Iron Man protected Toushiro as he fought with the ray of blistering power, watching helplessly as their young friend appeared to waver and weaken at odd times before reviving with a scowl and a wordless shout of defiance. Tony was the worst off. The small chart recording Toushiro's heartbeat and blood pressure buzzed with alarm in the corner of his suit's inner screen, flashing red as the young man's breathing hitched every thirty seconds or so. JARVIS was urging him to seek a doctor's assistance for the shinigami child every so often too – and that voice he knew the others could hear.

It took around half an hour for Toushiro to begin feeling strained, like he was pushing himself too far, but he gritted his teeth and ignored the flares of aching pain. This was what he'd meant to do, and he'd be damned if he chickened out. So he stayed, clenching his jaw and forcing himself to stay put. His reiatsu sputtered unsteadily, and for a moment he thought the Tesseract's energy was going to slip past the explosive force of his power, but he snarled all the louder and constricted a spiritual claw about his inner world, squeezing power from it. But the pressure beneath his blade was building, and slowly and surely he could feel himself being pushed back, could feel the way his heart began to thump erratically in his chest. His breath came in short, wheezing gasps now, the immense drain on his soul crippling him physically, and the more he strained, the harder it became to suppress the Tesseract's energy beneath his blade and body. He coughed – red came up and dripped from his chin as a twisted, crushing sensation mauled his insides. Internal damage from overuse of reiatsu, and he was only just over halfway through the time limit he'd given himself.

The next twenty minutes became a living hell for him. He knew the remaining Chitauri were circling him, kept at bay by his overwhelming, though weakening reiatsu and the constant threat on Thor and Iron Man working in tandem. And he knew the portal above him was closed. Even the knowledge of these things, however, could not distract him from the agony of his continued descent into death's grip. His vision was flickering, darkness clawing at his mind and soul, and he gasped, breath rattling in his chest.

The Tesseract's beam never flickered.

Then Steve's voice sounded in his earpiece, repeating something over and over again, though Hitsugaya could barely make sense of the words. It had been nearly an hour.

He choked on his breath as the Tesseract pushed him up further into the atmosphere, and suddenly he couldn't hear, couldn't see, and clenching pain shot through his chest and down his right arm. He tried to take a deep breath, tried to steady himself, but found that his lungs wouldn't respond. His strength failed, his body slowly continuing the grasping shutdown, and with a great surge of effort he called out, reaching for Hyourinmaru's consciousness. The dragon boiled through him, and suddenly Toushiro understood something about himself that he'd never known before.

Something pure white.

And the Tesseract's power seared through him, like fire in his veins, and a distinctly feminine spark of curiosity rushed through him, mixing into the white and awakening something which had long lain dormant in his soul.

He faintly wondered what it was, but then the clawing spasms in his chest faded, replaced by a pounding stillness.

His heart stopped.

"Sorry…everyone…" he whispered. And then he fell, his Bankai shattering in the air behind him, Hyourinmaru's blade cracking in his hand and slipping from numbed fingers. He heard a cry leak from his headset as the portal reopened with a blazing vengeance, and through odd tunnels Toushiro saw Tony guide a white rocket into the empty space between worlds. And he watched when the Iron-Man fell back through the portal, watched with growing dimness as the sky rushed away from him and the Tesseract was inexplicably turned off.

He could feel the wind in his hair, on his face, running through him and dissolving his spirit. A choking gasp escaped him, a last smile curving the corners of his mouth up.

The Avengers were safe. His friends were safe. They were going to be okay.

He could let go.

Then massive hands closed around him, green flashed above him, he watched the world darken, still smiling.

He let himself fade amongst the stars.

* * *

I'm so mean to Shiro-chan...:(

Reviews are well-loved!

~avtorSola


	11. Reboot

**A/N:** I felt guilty for the cliffy...so here's the next chapter! :D

Also, if you haven't already, please vote on my poll!

* * *

"Toushiro! Toushiro, dammit kid, get away from there!" Steve shouted, his voice cracking even as he watched the ray of blue light froth and bubble angrily underneath Toushiro's wavering blade. Hitsugaya had been above the Stark Tower for nearly an hour now – long enough to kill him, given his estimate. But he wasn't moving; he wasn't leaving his post.

"Toushiro, Stark has a nuke incoming!" he yelled into the headset, desperately warding away the last of the Chituari footsoldiers with his shield. "Get out of there so Stark can send it to them!"

Again, the boy refused to move, and slowly Rogers began to realize that maybe it was because Toushiro _couldn't_ move. Perhaps he was so far gone that he could barely function, though it frightened Rogers to think of the state the young captain would have to be in to lose such basic senses.

But finally, with a loud cry of grief from Kurosaki, the white-haired boy plummeted sideways, slipping out from the Tesseract's well of unadulterated power, and the wormhole reopened for just long enough to Stark to launch the bomb through. And then Natasha, who had managed to get into position on time, closed it for good. And Toushiro plunged towards the earth like a falling star. His sword slipped from his fingers, tumbling into empty space, and time seemed to slow. Steve called out in a panic to Thor and Iron Man, yelling for them, for someone, for anyone to catch their fallen comrade.

And the Hulk leapt forward, grabbing the young man in surprisingly gentle palms, cradling the broken figure with an unusual amount of curiosity on the green man's face. Then he thundered over to Steve and Kurosaki, watching the unmoving body with a nearing-frantic panic. Thor and Iron Man came to join the group moments later – Thor with an unconscious Loki with a bandaged shoulder and Clint and Iron Man with Natasha and Selvig carrying the Tesseract in a small briefcase.

By this point, Bruce had regained his senses and shrunk back to the doctor he was, clad only in the ragged pants that the Hulk had torn through. Toushiro lay still, his eyes half-open and staring sightlessly, blood leaking from the corners of his lips, sprawled gently on the shattered concrete beneath him, fragments of melting ice clinging to his cold skin. The Avengers clustered around the fallen boy as Banner tried to find a pulse, moving his fingers from the boy's wrist to the side of the young man's throat. Steve knelt by the young captain's side, poisonous fear and grief beginning to creep through his chest and choke his breath, and for the briefest moment he felt asthmatic again. They watched in horror as Banner unzipped the young shinigami's top and pressed his ear to Hitsugaya's motionless chest, trying desperately to find some sign of life. And then the scientist's face changed to one of disbelief.

"No!" he lashed out suddenly; emerald panic streaking across his tanned skin. "Tony, tell me you've got a vital sign from him!"

Slowly, the Iron Man replaced his mask and the six watched as the metal suit's eyes glowed briefly. Then the facemask disappeared, and Tony's stricken face said it all.

Banner clasped his hands together and placed the heels of his hands over Toushiro's sternum, thrusting down with a sharp, quick movement. Hitsugaya's chest appeared to deflate suddenly as his ribs cracked, but the pressure was lifted quickly, and Banner repeated the motion with alarming urgency. A dim voice in Steve's head told him that he should contact the other shinigami to get help – Banner was using full-fledged CPR to try and revive the child captain, including artificial respiration – but he seemed to have gone completely numb. For some reason, losing Toushiro seemed to be the same as losing Bucky had been – mind-shattering.

"Shinigami-san, Romanofudesu. Hitsugayataichowa…"

He could hear Natasha speaking rapid, anxious Japanese into the communicator, and he could also hear Ichigo's choked, barely audible murmuring of what sounded like a prayer under his breath as Banner pumped the boy's chest, forcing air into the still lungs. Thor, Clint and Tony were silent as he was, watching with varying degrees of anger and lost grief on their faces. Even Selvig seemed subdued – though Steve knew the man likely thought of Toushiro as a child and was upset for that reason. Finally, however, a tall woman with long, dark hair arrived, clad in the billowy robes that Hitsugaya had worn prior to Tony's gift of the protective suit. She ran forward so fast that it seemed that she had blurred, and when she stood by Toushiro's side, she turned to Ichigo and spoke quickly, her Japanese commands hurried. Ichigo nodded and responded in kind.

Then she turned to the humans, her gaze serious.

"I will take over from here." She told Banner solemnly, her eyes never leaving Hitsugaya's pale little face. Banner nodded, pressing one last breath into the unresponsive child's lungs, then sat back and watched in shock as the dark-haired woman enclosed the boy in a pale green cube of light, chanting fast-paced Japanese under her breath. For several long, tense minutes, her palms glowed with every shade of green light, until finally it was clear that her voice had become desperate.

Suddenly several more people appeared in the street, each wearing the loose clothing of the shinigami uniform. Many of them bore superficial wounds, and Steve could tell that even from this distance that few had escaped unharmed, though the bloody marks were little more than scratches. From this somber, black-clothed crowd, two pelted forward, expressions verging on blatant sorrow on their faces. Both were girls, though one was tall and blonde, her top cut low enough to make Steve blush on a normal day, and the other was small and sweet, looking only a few years older than Toushiro.

The pair reached the silent group just as the healer's green magic vanished and she lifted the limp figure tenderly in her arms. And the healer turned slowly to them, Toushiro borne gently in her grasp.

"I…" she began in English, glancing at the Avengers with tears pooling on her eyelashes. "I…"

Steve knew then, knew what she was going to say, and he shook his head, unwilling to believe it.

"N-no." he stuttered, his tone unsteady, startling Tony and Thor – who hadn't appeared to realize it yet. The healing woman just looked at him; her dark blue eyes a dreary ocean of grief.

"I…I'm so sorry." She said.

"He's gone."

The young girl fell to her knees with a loud scream of grief, crystalline droplets rolling down her pale cheeks, and the blonde woman looked as if she'd been slapped with a slab of concrete. Steve heard Thor's roar of sorrow, Banner's angry, trembling curses, Tony, Natasha and Clint's stone-faced silence, and Kurosaki's flickering, choked voice rise, speaking to the pair of women standing by the healer and Toushiro's soft corpse. At the sound of Kurosaki's wavering, emotion-drowned words, both girls began sobbing silently, and the blonde sank down beside her companion, wrapping her arms about the young girl and burying her head in the girl's shoulder.

But Rogers felt numb. Completely empty, like he'd been shocked into silence. And then his thoughts flitted to Bucky, and the supersoldier cupped a palm to his face, choking on a tearing sense of loss. Silent tears raced down his chiseled face.

A white sheet, crisp and clean, was rolled out onto the cracked street, and Toushiro's body was laid gently onto the crisp white surface, his Zanpakutou blade retrieved and placed at his side. His face was peaceful, and the barest hint of a content smile played about the pale lips. For a moment he lay there, looking at them – _through_ them, the ever-bright emerald of his stare hauntingly beautiful.

Rogers approached and the healing woman stepped aside, understanding what he wanted and silently giving him her blessing. The others watched, sobbing in their own ways.

So with trembling fingers, Steve reached out and gently – _oh so gently_ – drew the soft eyelids down. The young man could sleep now, sleep peacefully and eternally.

And he could dream, smiling.

Steve couldn't stop his voice from breaking.

"See you later, son." He choked out. "H-hopefully you're headed somewhere beautiful right now – you deserve it. But we have some things to wrap up here, so we'll…we'll catch up with you in a bit, okay?"

His candid tone cracked both Natasha and Clint, and the assassins began wavering, their stone masks breaking along the seams. Tony was already a shambles by the time he'd finished speaking, and Thor was obviously stricken by angered grief, as was Banner.

"Farewell, young one." the Asgardian said, his voice thick with emotion. "I will forever remember you, Toushiro Hitsugaya, and if my father permits it I will write your name in the stars."

Banner nodded at that, looking faintly green around the edges.

"Me too, Hitsugaya." He seconded. "And Tony and I…I think we'll do our best to make sure that the world is a better place than when you left it."

Tony wiped his eyes suddenly, blinking rapidly, and purposely turned his eyes from the little body lying limp on the white sheet.

"Yeah." he agreed. "I'll…I'll start a charity or something, to help kids like you were – back in Germany – get adopted. And I'll…I'll name it after you…yeah, I'll…I'll do that. I'll dedicate it to you and Phil, and I'll get Pepper and Stark Industries to support it…and maybe I could even get Thor and SHIELD to endorse it…"

Steve stood, clasped the plating protecting Tony's shoulder.

"I'll support it." He said instantly. "If America still has a soft spot for me, I'll do publicity stunts."

Stark looked at him, droplets of saltwater caught in his stubble and nodded wordlessly, unable to look the supersoldier in the face. Natasha knelt by the boy's side, her eyes welling though no tears spilled over, a curious anger and sorrow marking her countenance. She touched the cold face gently, trailing her fingers over Hitsugaya's cheekbone with subdued fondness.

"I liked you." She confessed quietly. "You were one of those children that made me regret – really, really regret – that I can't have kids of my own. So kick some ass for me, wherever you are. And it's like Rogers said; we'll catch up with you someday, kiddo. Sleep well until then."

But just as she was about to retreat from the boy's side, something caught her eye, and she took a closer look at the black glove covering the boy's wrist. She stiffened, then tenderly pulled the glove off his small, cold hand for a better look. With a gasp, she lifted her head.

"Selvig?" she questioned cautiously, and without warning, the scientist looked up from where he was examining the Tesseract's blue cube, eyes wide in stunned shock.

"Natasha, the Tesseract's going out!" he said, sudden panic engulfing his voice. "The light it gives off was pulsing oddly a little while ago, but now it's dimming, as if the energy is leaving."

Natasha nodded, then pointed behind her at the young corpse.

"And the veins in his hand where he was in the most contact with the Tesseract's energy are starting to shimmer a light blue." She said grimly. "It's like it was poisoning him."

For a moment, everyone was quiet, trying to understand why the Tesseract's energy would be leaving the cube to move to a corpse. And then Tony clapped his metal-plated hands together.

"Wait a second." He thought out loud, rubbing his chin. "Toushiro was directly expending energy to block the Tesseract's beam. So what happened when he'd used up all of his power?"

Banner spun on his heel, eyes wide. He seemed to still be unaware of the ragged state of his meager clothing.

"The Tesseract's excess would be drawn into the void!" he said incredulously. "You think that the Tesseract could be used to revive him? He's been dead for three minutes already, and the brain dies after four."

As one, everyone winced at the awful word used in conjunction with their young friend, but the healing woman nodded, sweeping over to them and plucking the blue cube up in her hands.

"We can only hope that it will work." She said, her gaze focused on the young boy before her. "Watch."

She set the Tesseract on Toushiro's chest and closed a green glowing magic-box around them, chanting feverishly in Japanese for several moments. It took several tense seconds for anything to happen, but when it did, the result was spectacular.

The blue light in the center of the cube suddenly flickered and died, and the cubic blue shell cracked and broke apart, revealing a small glowing stone which dropped onto Toushiro's chest and sank under his skin, the energetic cerulean light dissolving into the boy's body. And suddenly, the icy blue-white of the boy's personal energy signature rose up through him, a long breath escaping his lips…and…

A gasping breath escaped him, a sharp, desperate wheeze much like the choked inhalation of one who nearly drowned. His chest heaved, his body trying to take in oxygen as fast as it could, and slowly the violent wheezing calmed into long, measured breaths, as if he were merely asleep. And the Tesseract's clean blue light wove across the boy's face like a tattoo until a tiny blue polygon matching the shape of Hitsugaya's sword hilt coalesced over his left eyebrow, on the side of his face not hidden by his thick bangs. The healer-woman gently took his pulse, then breathed a long sigh of relief.

"It worked." She told them, her gaze wondering slightly. "He lives."

Clint whooped, and Thor shook his fist as if they'd won a great victory, his smile spreading infectiously. Kurosaki let out a yell of triumph. And for a moment, all was well. Steve buried his face in his hands, asphyxiating on his relief and broken sorrows.

Toushiro was alive again.

But then blue lines spiderwebbed over the young captain's visible skin, and his breathing hitched as if he was in pain. A convulsion wracked his thin frame, startling him into delirious consciousness and rendering him completely helpless. Blue wisps of the Tesseract's energies drifted off his skin, and even as Steve and the healer-woman threw themselves forward to quiet his struggles, he seized again, a strangled cry escaping his throat.

"Unohana-taicho!"

The voice belonged to a creaky-looking old man, one that Steve recognized with a start to be the same man that Toushiro had first made contact with from his own people. The Commander of the shinigami forces. Steve saluted reflexively, keeping Toushiro pinned with his knee and his free hand. The old man made a perfunctory nod in his direction, likely surprised by the show of deference, but quickly turned to the healing captain. For several long minutes, they exchanged rapid Japanese, the thrashing young man trapped beneath Steve's much larger frame gasping uneven breaths. The Avengers, Kurosaki, and the two unknown shinigami-women tried to calm him, tried to soothe the convulsing boy while Unohana and Yamamoto spoke, but as the conversation continued the Japanese-speakers, Natasha included, began to go pale.

Finally, Yamamoto swore explosively and knelt down next to the twisting captain.

"Hitsugaya-taicho!" he called, taking the child's face in his hands and immobilizing the boy's head. "Hitsugaya-taicho, focus on my voice. Do you understand? Focus on the world about you."

Toushiro's back arched, as if he was in pain, and a soundless cry rolled off his tongue. But slowly, as if he could only barely control the spasming of his body, he tried to speak.

"Yama…Yamamo…" he choked out, unable to fully form the man's name. The lithe little figure bucked again, and suddenly an extra punch of power threw the supersoldier pinning him bodily away, as if he was no more than a rag doll.

"Easy, Hitsugaya-taicho." Yamamoto ordered, his tone anxious. "Do you understand what's happening? Block it out! You can't lose control yet, do you understand me?"

For a moment, all that could be heard were the white-haired boy's rippling whimpers of both pain and fear.

"Ye…yes…sir" he spat around clenched teeth and a locked jaw.

The Commander stood, his wrinkled old face lined with a certain angered determination. He sighed deeply.

"Asgardian." He snapped. Thor looked up at him, worry for Toushiro filling the creases of his face.

"Yes, Sir Shinigami?" Thor responded warily, keeping a firm grip on the slowly reawakening Loki.

"Can you contact Odin from Earth?" The old shinigami asked sternly. Thor looked confused, then shook his head.

"Not directly. But Heimdall, the keeper of the Bifrost, can see and hear all that goes on. Doubtless he can tell my father of what has transpired here on Earth." Suddenly Thor's face became troubled. "However, I will need the Tesseract's power to return to Asgard, so any message carrying must wait until the young captain has recovered enough to separate himself…"

Yamamoto was shaking his head, as was Natasha, and it was these expressions which cut off all noise surrounding the small group.

"Thor…" Natasha started slowly. "The Tesseract is…it's _changing_ him. It's waking up some sort of genetic memory in him and rewriting that to incorporate itself…comparable to the process that Rogers underwent when the supersoldier serum was injected – except it is far more painful. I didn't understand many of the technical words in the conversation…so that's my best guess at a translation."

Steve paled sharply, remembering the moment when the serum had entered his bloodstream and how much pain he'd endured. Yet this…was worse?

Yamamoto nodded jerkily, his gaze fixed on the child before him.

"This process has happened once before." He said. "It is the reason why Asgard and Soul Society broke ties. My younger brother took part in an experiment similar to this one, but nobody thought to inform me. He was dead before I could understand why, and Odin seemed to think that my interference had been what killed my brother. My stance was different. I thought that it would at least be common courtesy to inform the family of a man who was taking part in an experiment which could – and did – cost him his life. I withdrew all communications with Asgard the next day, and Odin and I have not spoken since."

The old man's eyes narrowed in twisted anger, a pained grimace crossing his features.

"However, as far as I can understand it, my brother's death stemmed from his low capacity for containing the power of the stone used in his transformation." He said bitterly. "The Asgardian technology used to smooth and control the transformation was all fully operational."

The admission appeared to hurt Yamamoto deeply, but then he composed himself. A slight whimper escaped Hitsugaya's paling lips, streaks of luminous, clean blue darkening along the ridges of his face and arms.

"His only chance is if we take him to Asgard immediately." Yamamoto decided firmly. "We can only hope that Odin has not destroyed the device used to contain the effects of such a transmutation."

Thor leapt forward, shaking his head in distress.

"We cannot return to Asgard unless we can use the power of the Tesseract!" he raged quietly. "And the Tesseract is unusable!"

Suddenly, the old man smiled thinly, his narrow glare winking in suppressed amusement.

"We shinigami can travel by other means, Asgardian." He asserted firmly, sweeping the shuddering young captain up in his arms. "I will take him to Odin now. Matsumoto-fukutaicho, Unohana-taicho, if you will accompany me."

Thor nodded, then readjusted his grip on the dazed Loki and scowled deeply, his muscles rippling as he practically threw his adopted brother over his shoulder, ignoring the semi-conscious man's groan of protest.

"I will go with you." He declared forcefully. "I must return to my father's side. And I believe that perhaps Captain Rogers and Mr. Stark should go as well. Young Hitsugaya appears to be put at ease by Captain Rogers's presence, and Mr. Stark will likely be able to understand the technological aspects of the device you speak of. He may be able to assist in a quick assessment of any calibration involving this particular instrument. He has previous data concerning the lad's physiology."

Yamamoto gave the two humans in question a hard look, but then Toushiro contorted, a strangled cry of mixed shock and pain filling the boy's mouth, and the old man nodded darkly, passing the seizing child captain to Steve as gently as he could.

"Very well then." He allowed unwillingly. "Let us go."

* * *

Heh heh. Plot point for *Tipping Balances* (tentative title) is planted!

By the way, Crash-landed is FULLY WRITTEN! Will upload at a measured pace, however - more reviews means faster update time ;) (though I suppose I'm pretty fast already...)

Read & review!

~avtorSola


	12. Blame Game

**A/N:** Hey all. Someone brought something to my attention that might be confusing to some of you. So here it is.

I don't consider the anime canon. I'm strictly a manga-reader, with sparse anime watching. So I probably won't make references to anything that happens in the anime only. (hope that clears anything up)

Anyhoo, last update for a while - vacation tomorrow. So enjoy!

* * *

The Dangai was weird, even if it was quote-on-quote "stable, as the healing-captain Unohana had said it was. Lavender goop oozed from the walls, and if it hadn't been for his almost-superhuman reflexes, Steve and the convulsing young man borne gently in his arms would have been trapped by the disgusting slime twice over. Tony flew next to him, the dings and scratches in his iron suit eerily reflecting the bright blue glow carrying the Tesseract's inexorable current through Toushiro's heart and soul.

"His heart rate's gone through the roof." Tony whispered weakly, the solid plate of his visor lifted to reveal the stubbly goatee. "JARVIS keeps yelling at me to get him to a hospital."

Steve glanced breathlessly down at the boy cradled against the grimy protective suit which he wore, watching with something like despair coating his clean-shaven face.

"We're…I think we're almost there." He murmured faintly. Hitsugaya's seizures were less violent now, but his eyes were still open and glassy, the clean blue wires of light pulsing up and down his face and under the bodysuit with a sort of rhythmic precision. And his breath was fainter, as if he couldn't take in air the way he was used to. The blonde woman with the low-cut top suddenly sped up, her pretty face strained, and slid into position just alongside Steve's left. She reached out, touched the young captain's snow-white skin with trembling fingers.

"Daijoubu dawa, Taicho." She whispered to him. "Daijoubu kudasai."

Some flicker of recognition passed across Toushiro's face and he tried to answer. But all that came out was another shaking whimper and his thin frame jerked painfully. A sudden flash of sparking embers seared through the air, and the old shinigami warrior leading their mindless rush gestured at a shining white door in front of them, his cane dissolving into an ancient blade which hummed with power.

"Through this gate, hurry! The power of any of the Infinity Stones can extinguish entire planets when unleashed wildly!" he ordered, gesturing for Thor to go through first with Loki, and then for Captain America and Iron Man to follow with Toushiro's shuddering little body borne lifelessly in the former's strong arms. They leapt without hesitation, not even pausing to think that perhaps the jump would be their last – it wasn't as if they knew what was on the other side. Yet they landed in a sprawling mess on a golden floor, just behind Thor and the weakly struggling Loki, and they'd made it. They were in Asgard.

"Father!" Steve heard Thor run forward, dragging his adoptive brother with him, but he didn't dare look up. The young shinigami in his arms had begun to tremble gently, a sort of panic flashing across his pale little face. He wheezed weakly, painfully, staring up at the supersoldier with unnatural fear in his marbling jade look. Steve cradled the child captain to his chest, helplessly trying to comfort him.

"Hang on, son." He said, voice cracking slightly. This boy had just died. And through some miracle, he'd been revived. If he couldn't hold on, it he let go and passed away – for good, this time – Steve didn't know if he could take it. He stood up. Toushiro convulsed violently, but never broke eye contact.

"Just a little longer, kiddo." He reassured

The sudden silence in the room was deafening, and Steve felt rather than saw the shinigami trio step gracefully into what must be Asgard's throne room – if the shocked Asgardian king was any indicator. Thor turned away from the sight of his brother being dragged to the prison, gaze alighting briefly on Steve, Tony, and the young captain's quivering frame, then on the old man Steve was sure stood just behind him.

"Commander Yamamoto, I believe my father is known to you." Thor stated plainly. "But let your anger go if only for the young man's sake."

A soft snort echoed behind the almost motionless supersoldier and sudden warmth curled through the room, a bitterness lacing the pressure on Steve's muscular back.

"I would not be here if I was not willing to do so." He rebuked harshly. "I do not need a lecture from you, Asgardian."

"That raises a curious question." the king said softly, his tone still stricken. "Why in fact _are_ you here, Yamamoto? I was under the impression you blamed me for your brother's death."

Yamamoto's old glare narrowed and he gestured to the young man in Steve's arms.

"I am here to ensure that the same tragic fate does not befall the youngest of my current captains." He stated firmly, his voice a low growl. "And believe me, if this boy dies, it will be a crippling blow to my people. The Seventh Stone is so thick in his blood that it affects it outward appearance. If anyone has a chance of completing your experiment…it's him."

Odin's single eye widened in shock, staring at the child held gently in Captain America's arms with incredulity.

"You mean to tell me that this boy…" Odin's face was starstruck, his mouth gaping slightly. "Controlling Kismet?"

Yamamoto glanced at Toushiro from the corner of his eye. He was gasping for breath now, the Tesseract's bright blue light growing brighter upon his face.

"He's a Memory Sentinel, Odin, the youngest and most powerful of five in recorded history." He said quietly. "And his soul and power are wild and willful. Very few among either humans or shinigami have the same qualities of spirit. I can't lose him. The Tesseract is already awakening the Seventh Stone as we speak."

The Asgardian monarch nodded shallowly, then turned to the men standing off to his right and stood from his throne.

"Activate the city shield." He ordered sternly. "Turn all generators to maximum capacity. Warn the citizens of possible power loss within the next few hours as a precaution. Also, contact the scientists who were part of the Rebirth Initiative from nine-thousand years ago. Tell them that Rebirth is on full reboot. Am I understood?"

The Asgardian soldiers saluted sharply and vanished in different directions. Odin watched them go for a moment. Then the air was rent with an earsplitting shriek and a sudden whiplash of clean blue vortexed in the space about Toushiro and Steve, a violent eddy of the Tesseract's power blazing through the air. Hitsugaya's head had fallen back, his chest rising and falling in an agonizing mockery of real breathing. He'd stopped thrashing about finally, but it appeared that he couldn't hold out against whatever the Tesseract was doing to him for much longer. The impossible green of his eyes was slowly fading into electric blue. Matsumoto gasped at the eerie sight, and Steve and Tony exchanged long, worried looks.

"Bring the child and follow me. He does not have much time left." Odin commanded urgently. "Thor, inform Freya that the Rebirth Initiative has undergone an unforeseen restart, and tell her to make her way to the containment unit as soon as possible."

Thor nodded, swung his hammer about several times, and flew easily away with a last glance back at Toushiro. Then Odin led the group from the throne room and down a series of many ornate staircases, almost sprinting towards a blank stretch of wall. The odd collection of shinigami and humans kept up with some difficulty, skidding to a halt behind the alien monarch as he stared unblinkingly at the empty wall. For a moment they thought he'd cracked. But then he reached out, pushed in a section of the ornate decals carved into the walls, and the entire wall slid back to reveal a slick, polished room littered with oddly dust-less equipment and a large, forlorn-looking capsule sitting in the center of the room.

Without warning, several flustered Asgardians ran into the room and towards the capsule and equipment, their incessant flapping about disturbing the relative quiet and peace which had previously existed. Toushiro's chest fluttered weakly. The blue had nearly overtaken him now.

Then one of the Asgardians looked up, face pale but set with determination, and shouted to one of his fellows.

"The pod is fully operational! Turn on the power!"

Someone pulled a lever or pushed a button or flicked a switch, but no matter what had happened to send power rushing through the pod's metal shell, the result was terrifying. Golden lights flickered along the pod's edges, and it started to hum, rising about a foot into the air and hovering there on unseen wings. The outer husk began to revolve, spinning so quickly and with such acceleration that the glassy clear surface seemed to glow. The thick wires trailing from the pod's base buzzed powerfully. Then the scientists turned to the boy in Steve's careful grasp, fear and stricken anxiety written across them as they began hasty calibration. Stark stepped forward then, a last glance at the failing shinigami hardening his resolve.

"I have some data on the kid." He offered, quickly getting sucked into the technical stuff. The Asgardians seemed relieved by his knowledge. Quickly, they entered in the data they'd need, and one of the Asgardians approached Steve hurriedly.

"Quickly now!" she said, her gaze worried. "We calculated the maximum time a shinigami could contain the power of one of the Infinity Stones many years ago – and he has already far exceeded this limit."

Steve followed her towards the pod, Toushiro's limp little body tucked close to his chest, quivering uncontrollably, the boy's warm little heart a haphazard mess in his gasping mouth. The Asgardian woman – perhaps a nurse – tapped on the pod's control pad, and abruptly the glassy outer shell came to a sudden halt. With a pneumatic hiss, the pod's crystalline lid lifted into the air, revealing that the stiff white surface beneath was laced with thin veins of white metal fibers. The woman pointed slowly, her face set in grim solemnity.

"Lay him there, if you would. And remove any clothing other than the black bodysuit. His blade goes in the slot by his head." She said quietly. Steve nodded wordlessly, feeling his throat constrict. With as much gentleness as he could muster, he set Toushiro gently inside the futuristic capsule, supporting the boy's snowy head as it lolled back. Then he unbuckled the belts, weaponry and all, from the boy's shivering body and slipped the long white coat from his shoulders, taking off the boy's boots and remaining glove a moment later and setting them beside the pod. The long Zanpakutou blade was inserted gently, reverently, into the slot the Asgardian woman had mentioned, the hilt mere inches from the young man's white head. Hitsugaya stared up at him, unblinking, a slow recognition flickering deeply in the murk of glowing blue. He looked frightened, Steve thought, unable to detangle the knots of frantic worry in his chest. He took a deep breath.

"You're going to be okay, Toushiro." He said firmly, trying to convince himself of that. "Alright? I'll be waiting for you to recover, so stay strong."

The wide, fearful look was the only response he got before Yamamoto gripped his shoulder and pulled him a few steps away. And the lid flipped closed, sealing the young captain inside the pod with an awful finality. The streaks of clean blue woven across his face sudden glowed brighter, almost blindingly so.

"Engaging containment shield and activating energy purifiers." The Asgardian woman said, typing a complex key sequence into the pod's control panel. A soft golden filigree ghosted over the inside of the glass, and through the glowing, translucent shield Steve could see the fibrous white surface that Toushiro lay on beginning to unravel, curling slowly around his arms and legs and sliding up underneath the edges of his clothing, following the clean blue web of the Tesseract's power up the young man's body. A few of the thicker strands slipped stealthily between Toushiro's lips, slithering into his mouth and nose and likely down his throat. He didn't seem to notice, breathing softly around the white tubes. His face had smoothed out, the blue energy radiating from his skin now controlled and refined. Quietly, his eyes closed, and he passed out gently in the capsule. The Tesseract's power shone brightly around the white fibers, the blue light gentler now, a soft wash of cold color. Luminous screens blinked into existence on the pod's smooth white sides, each one showing a different sort of chart, each one cataloging a different statistic. Hitsugaya lay motionless, now deeply unconscious in the pod, blissfully unaware of the intensive monitoring of his person – something for which Steve and the shinigami were grateful.

"Molecular fusion is already at three percent." One man called from the screen he was watching carefully. "The computer is predicting that complete fusion will be achieved in less than a month and a half. That's at least six hundred percent faster than we were expecting."

Yamamoto stepped forward, the Zanpakutou in his hand gleaming brightly.

"This is one of my captains." He stated calmly. "He possesses a powerful Bankai, though it is relatively undeveloped – and possesses also the massive amounts of reiryoku needed to support such a state. My brother did not. In addition, Captain Hitsugaya is still a child by shinigami standards. His body is still growing – he will likely adapt more easily to the Tesseract's power."

The scientists took all this in perfunctorily, nodding politely and scurrying around with no less haste. Another man interjected this time.

"The cranial scans indicate that his personality is still the dominant consciousness, and by an extremely large margin – there's over an eighty-six percent margin between the amount of control he has and the second-most dominant personality." He declared, a collective sigh of relief rolling through the room. "However…I'm seeing not two or three, but at least eight different brainwave frequencies surfacing, indicating eight consciousnesses. The two strongest appear to possess extraordinarily similar characteristics and together make up 94% of the dominant consciousnesses – I would guess those belong to the Zanpakutou and the young man there. But there are six others…"

Odin and Yamamoto exchanged long, long looks, a wealth of coded information passing between them with that simple, short glance. Unohana, Matsumoto, Tony, Steve, and Thor, who had just arrived with his mother in tow, tried to read the expressions and failed.

"It may simply be an anomaly." Yamamoto began slowly. "Captain Hitsugaya's powers are still quite immature – I believe he achieved Bankai less than twenty years ago. Among shinigami, such a time span is practically meaningless. He is the youngest and most inexperienced of our captains in battle. However…if one uses the humans' IQ test, then his mental capacity far exceeds any of his peers and elders. In Soul Society the scale is adjusted to account for our life experiences, and Captain Hitsugaya has still practically shattered the scale. On the human version he scores well over two hundred and thirty, and on the shinigami version he scores an even 198, well above the ninety-two which most of our soldiers score. His mental capacity is extremely advanced. It may have been quite possible for him to successfully hide any mental disorders."

Steve and Tony looked at each other, stunned by the numbers and the revelation that their young friend might be a sufferer of mental illness. But that didn't seem right – Yamamoto was hiding something. Tony opened his big mouth to object but then the shinigami commander slid his sword back into empty space and the Dangai reopened with the chiming of bells and a butterfly's wings.

"Humans, we can do no more for now." He informed them with a certain sense of regret, his gaze lingering on his unconscious captain. "Odin, if Matsumoto-fukutaicho may be permitted to move back and forth between Asgard and the Soul Society at regular intervals to bring visitors, it would be greatly appreciated."

Odin gazed at the old man steadily.

"Will you reaffirm our old alliance?" he countered quietly. "You know as well as I that your brother's death was not our fault. Your actions disturbed the balance he had reached."

Yamamoto flared up, anger filling his gaze, and almost without realizing it, Steve stepped between the two powerful old men, his glare stern.

"Enough." He snapped. "You argue about blame when a man died. Can you both not accept responsibility and move on from this? Toushiro's future may be on the line."

Odin and Yamamoto stopped, startled by the supersoldier's angered face, the taut disapproval stretched over his cheeks.

"Your Majesty, Yamamoto says you didn't warn him of his brother's agreement to such an experiment." He said calmly. "Perhaps doing so would have been proper protocol. And Commander Yamamoto, Odin claims that your interference disrupted the experiment and caused your brother's death. Perhaps he is right – It is an Asgardian experiment. Can we agree that both parties may be at fault instead of harboring petty grudges? The last time any major powers held grievances; two world wars broke out on Earth. I don't think the same should happen here."

Tony, Unohana, Matsumoto, Thor, and all of the remaining Asgardians stared at the annoyed supersoldier in something akin to shock. He'd been extremely bold just then, and it showed on the two leaders' faces.

Odin scowled at Captain America in something like irritation.

"How dare you speak to me that way." He snarled. Steve felt his anger flare, a sort of uncoiling spool of calm shine pooling in his gut.

"The death of one's brother is never something another wants on their shoulders!" Steve retorted, something bright and pure flashing off the edges of shield strapped to his back. Odin drew back in surprise, and Yamamoto's mouth dropped open slightly. Steve's indignation was simmering.

"How dare _you_ place all of the blame for a man's death on his kin's shoulders when perhaps the entire situation could have been avoided in the first place had you sent him a message explaining the plan beforehand!" he all but shouted. "And Commander, you know full well that your involvement with a process you knew _nothing_ about may well have been the tipping factor in a man's survival! Neither of you may be without blame! Accept that and move on, or you'll forever be _stuck_ trying to explain away all the reasons why you aren't at fault. Take some responsibility, both of you."

The pair stared at him for a long moment, unsure of how to respond to such courage. Finally, Matsumoto broke the silence.

"Who was it?" she asked quietly. "You seem to speak from experience."

Steve let out a great sigh, averting his eyes.

"My best friend." He replied quietly. "Before I was Captain America, I was a pathetically skinny asthmatic kid with no real parents to speak of. Bucky's family took me in. And then he died in World War Two, and it was my fault. I had to learn to live with that – more recently than not. And I knew that blaming everything and everyone else around me would only result in a hell of a lot more pain. So I accepted that I played a part in his death, resolved that he would want me to move forward with my life, and so I did. If you shirk blame that you rightfully deserve, you're a coward. Bucky and I always believed that."

There was a long silence for a time, the only sound the constant hum of Hitsugaya's ovoid container as the Tesseract's energy washed through it. Then Yamamoto chuckled softly, his expression changing.

"I think I understand now." He mused. "Why Captain Hitsugaya chose to commit suicide rather than allow your deaths. He was never the type to place himself in harm's way over a human…but I think you changed that, Captain Rogers."

The old man sighed deeply, stroking his long white beard, and he looked Odin squarely in the face without an ounce of his previous rancor. The Dangai passage slid closed behind him.

"I think the soldier is right, Odin." He admitted reluctantly. "Perhaps we are both at fault."

Odin's entire demeanor changed without warning, a troubled frown spreading across his grizzled countenance.

"I never thought I would hear you say those words." He said gravely. "But yes…I think on that we must agree. I apologize for not informing you sooner."

"And I apologize for losing my temper." Yamamoto returned graciously. "I think our alliance of old is still in working conditions, yes? Perhaps a few tweaks?"

Odin smiled warmly, taking the old shinigami by the arm and leading him from the room.

"Perhaps were can discuss it over a warm meal." The Asgardian monarch replied kindly. "Your associates will always be welcomed upon Asgard – including any human counterparts which you deem necessary to bring."

"That is greatly appreciated…"

The pair disappeared around the corner, leaving the room where Toushiro lay unconscious, washes of flashing color and light pulsing around him, through him. Steve looked back at him one more time, the smooth skin over his jaws pulling tauter than a drumskin. The young shinigami didn't seem to be in pain anymore, but his cheeks were still pale and drawn, a lingering testament to the effort he'd expended to protect New York. He seemed to be asleep now, but his face had none of the childlike sweetness which Steve had previously seen, only a lingering peace which straddled the border between sad and happy. He approached the capsule cautiously, wary of disturbing any of the Asgardian technology, coming within a foot of the glass surface. Hitsugaya's white hair reflected like gleaming snow through the crystalline shield, the golden force field humming over the inside of the shining pod tinting his pale little face with sunshine.

"He's always looked peaceful in his sleep, ever since I met him."

Steve whirled round, only to find Matsumoto watching her captain's enforced slumber a few paces behind him. Her pretty blue eyes were melancholy, and with a sad smile she closed the gap between them, coming to stand by the American man's side. Tony watched from where he and Unohana were busily helping the Asgardians with specifics on Toushiro's powers.

"Has he?" Steve asked quietly, his voice choking. "With a life as dark as his had been…"

"He found people who loved him, Rogers-san." Matsumoto explained equally quietly. "I found him, you know, when he was dying. I was only a few years out of the Academy then – hadn't quite had the experience to keep myself calm when a child died."

She sighed sadly, placing a hand on the glass, her breath misting on the clear surface.

"He was lying in a pool of mud and blood when I arrived to that battlefield." She recalled softly, her blue glance welling up. "His face was like snow, cold and white, and…oh gods, Rogers-san, he looked so terribly frightened. He couldn't see me because he was still alive then…but I think he knew. I think he knew that I was death come calling. So I watched over him, tried to reassure him even though I knew he couldn't feel my touch or hear my voice."

She swallowed hard, rubbing at her eyes, and continued, her voice shaking.

"It took him three more hours to die." She said quietly. "I only left him once, to send on another of the Germans, and then I came back. I didn't…I didn't want him to die alone, but I also didn't want him to know that he was dead. Most souls don't realize it when they die. So…when he finally woke up as a spirit, I had moved to the other side of the battlefield, watching him from afar."

"His squad was slaughtered mere days after his death, and the French moved into the old German stronghold. That was when I approached him…and I found him watching his own funeral. And I…I couldn't do anything for him but watch." She whispered. "My little captain…he was sobbing so hard…"

Steve turned to face her, drawing his attention away from Hitsugaya's sleeping face. The atmosphere of the room had become thick with sadness, and the supersoldier could hear Thor quietly reassuring his mother at the back of the room, trying to comfort her.

"He told us." He said softly. "You found him staring at his…his…"

"His grave. Yes." Matsumoto confirmed. "He'd cried himself sick, poor babe. And I made myself a promise, made him a promise. I told him that I would find him. That he wouldn't be alone anymore. He cried himself to sleep in my arms, and then I sent him on. He won't admit that, of course…but that was how we first met. And then…"

She giggled then, smiling cheerfully once again.

"I made good on my promise." She said. "I found him – damn, the kid had nasty reiatsu. Strong and cold – I'd never felt anything like it from an untrained soul, so I followed him. He didn't recognize me at first, so I kinda…I kinda stalked him for the rest of the day, until he went home. One of the older women had taken him in."

A laugh escaped her.

"Anyhow, long story short, I told him to become a shinigami." She revealed cheerfully. "So he did, and the rest is history. He gained a ton of confidence, sharpened that razor-blade tongue of his, and scrapped around a bit. He joined the Tenth Division, I took him under my wing, and we had all sorts of adventures together. After 1942 he started to go a bit sour – understandable, really – but with Hinamori's help I still managed to rope him into having fun."

She smiled again.

"And ever since I found him…he's slept peacefully." She said, a soft warmth touching the edges of her face. "He has people that care about him – and for him, that was enough to erase the darkness of his past. He still wasn't very nice towards the human race, but he didn't let it taint his view of people as a whole."

Her hand dropped from the glass casing, her face serious.

"And now…Steve, you've shattered that hate he always carried." She told the supersoldier seriously. "Those peaceful expressions he has now…you all are part of the reason he wears them. You need to understand that."

Tony came forward, his suit clinking metallically. He seemed puzzled.

"How can you tell?" he asked curiously. "I mean, he told us that we changed how he views people, but how do we know that he holds us in such high regard?"

Matsumoto's lips curled in a mixture of amusement and grief.

"Because he protected you with his heart, not his head." She said quietly. "I've been thinking about it. If his power was similar enough to the Tesseract's that he could block and absorb it…then he could have shut off the machine making the beam. I heard Selvig talking about the safety he'd built into it. My taicho is a genius – if he'd been thinking straight he would have seen that."

The wave of breaking understanding crashed down over the Avengers like bricks. Stricken, Tony, Thor and Steve looked helplessly at each other. Matsumoto shifted quietly.

"I've only ever seen him truly lose his temper twice." She said gently. "He's terrifyingly blind when his rage overwhelms him – he's still a child, after all. And just like that time…he acted impulsively. He usually thinks, weighs all of his options as carefully as he can without even the slightest inkling of doubt. But…during the invasion, all he could see was that if he sacrificed himself, then you might live. And so he leapt into it. And that in itself is so telling. That he'd die again for you to live…that he'd give up everything he knows and cares about just so you might see the next day…he loves you. It's not going to be something he'll express verbally. He's not going to ever say anything about it unless he thinks it's his last chance. But it's true."

The blonde waves rippled, and Matsumoto turned her head away.

"I know him better than almost anyone." She said softly. "So I'm only going to ask this once of you."

Without warning, she bowed.

"Please." She asked pleadingly. "Don't hurt him. Whatever you do, _don't_ hurt him."

Steve glanced up at Tony, then over at Thor. Both men nodded, though Tony rolled his eyes. Wasn't it obvious?

"With all due respect, ma'am." Steve replied firmly, grabbing Matsumoto by the shoulders and pulling her upright. She stared at him, surprised by his vehemence. "Brothers don't hurt each other."

Tony shot a side glance at the unconscious shinigami, his brown glare derisive.

"Well, **_I_** reserve the right to smack him into a wall when he wakes up." he groused. "If only for pulling a goddamn suicide scheme on us. And I wouldn't be opposed to putting him over my knee and spanking him either for doing something like that."

Matsumoto burst out laughing, as did Steve. And after moment, after Tony thought about the mental picture and the inevitable repercussions of such an action – all of which involved him buried in a glacier – and also started laughing.

Toushiro wouldn't take that well at _all_.

* * *

Reviews are well-loved!


	13. Reawakening

**A/N:** Hello! I'm back! Sorry for the wait - I'm still on vacation, as you should know if you were reading my other A/Ns. Anyhoo, the chapter after this one (and this one) may be something of an info dump - but it will set the scenes for *Tipping Balance* (tentatively named), the sequel! That should be posted...maybe around the middle/end of July?

Hope you enjoy~

~avtorSola

* * *

 _"Thoughts"_

 _"~Artificial Communications~"_

 _"Zanpakutou speaking"_

 ** _"Japanese"_**

"Checkers, Thor?"

"Checkers? What are checkers?"

Steve raised an eyebrow at the Asgardian, gesturing to the box under his arm. Even he knew about checkers – they'd been around forever, or so it seemed. Hadn't Jane taught the man anything?

"Board game." He said simply, setting the box onto the carved table between them. Some spare chairs and tables had been moved into the room where Hitsugaya was undergoing the Tesseract-induced transmutation and subsequent coma-like sleep. They were often occupied by visiting shinigami and humans since the implementation of the new Asgardian-Seireitei-Earth treaty.

It had taken some serious convincing on both Yamamoto's and Odin's part, but eventually a combination of Fury and Steve had wheedled the two other races into including the Avengers in the treaty. There were some limitations, obviously, one of which being that neither of the other two races would interfere on Earth unless the small blue planet was under the threat of global extinction, alien attack, or other mass-genocide catastrophes. But in return, it had been agreed that Thor, Steve, and the currently-unconscious Toushiro would act as world liaisons, free to move between any of the three realms.

As of yet, the shinigami had yet to find a way to allow Steve to easily pass into their realm – apparently a particle converter of some kind was required, and they hadn't created a working, portable one yet. But Odin had presented him with a small device which could feasibly pose as a wristwatch and would enable him to call for the Bifrost Bridge whenever he deemed it necessary.

Even better, SHIELD was constructing a stringently classified training facility and office complex for humans that the shinigami thought could benefit them. Toushiro's division had been placed in charge of it, and once the young man awoke, he would be given Level 10+ security clearance – the same as Fury. All of the Avengers had received a similar addition to their "need-to-know" rank – the small plus sign indicated knowledge of the Soul Reaper Division, affectionately nicknamed the Zombie Squad by Tony during one of his bouts of incredible sarcasm.

"A board game? You must teach me to play, friend." Thor said, examining the box curiously. Steve smiled, pulling out the board and pieces and setting them up.

"Of course." He said.

For the next few moments, Steve explained the rules to the Asgardian prince. He and Thor had established a strong friendship since the Battle of New York, and it showed on each man's face. Thor took the black checkers and moved a piece forward.

"So, how goes the establishment of the SRD?" Thor asked knowingly. "I heard the shinigami were being quite contrary about how it would be staffed, especially in the past week."

Steve groaned wearily, absently jumping one of Thor's pieces.

"You heard right." he said, massaging his temples. "All of the Avengers have positions in the SRD, but other than that, the shinigami are choosing the oddest candidates to fill the two human-inclusive squads they've requested. Fury sent them thirty-five of SHIELD's best agents – and the shinigami turned all but one away, and his resume was the weakest of the lot. Then Lieutenant Matsumoto approached Fury and asked for permission to recruit a Level 2 agent with minimal experience. It's extraordinarily confusing."

Thor raised an eyebrow, puzzled.

"That does seem odd." He mused. "Was there any explanation given?"

Steve shrugged bewilderedly.

"Yes. Apparently no other candidates have suitable Spiritual Pressure." He said, running his fingers through his hair. "And Fury wouldn't let Agent Hill join the SRD – said she's too valuable. For the moment there are two other spots available in the SRD's joint-mission squads. Lieutenant Matsumoto said I could join up with one in my spare time after some training, as could Bruce, but as Avengers we have other priorities."

The Asgardian sighed deeply, double-jumping two of Steve's bright red pieces.

"I believe my piece becomes a king now, Steven." He announced thoughtfully, regarding the board with a quizzical expression. Steve looked down at the board, nodded, and duly 'crowned' the lucky checker disk. He frowned then.

"My security clearance was also upgraded." He said quietly, sliding the checkers across the board. The low hum of Toushiro's illuminated capsule filled the spaces between his words. "I'm Level 7+ now."

Thor blinked in surprise.

"Does that trouble you?" the Asgardian asked.

"Agent Coulson was revived. And Fury won't tell the rest of the team. I'm under eyeball orders not to talk about him to anyone without the required clearance." Steve said uncomfortably.

Thor's eyes widened in shock, and he stared at the supersoldier with some disbelief.

"Then why are you speaking to me about this?" he asked in a hushed voice, his tone stunned. Steve smiled then.

"Odin is privy to all SHIELD secrets, as is Toushiro. You can pretend that Odin mentioned Coulson's revival to you, and thus will be able to tell the rest of the team." Steve explained calmly. "They deserve to know, but since I can't tell them, I'll leave that up to you."

Thor nodded, understanding without further explanation, and returned his attention the game of checkers below. A smile lit his face.

"Lady Romanoff has taught you well, so it would seem." He noted. Steve blushed a bit.

"Not anywhere close." He refuted ruefully. "Natasha still says I'm the worst liar she's ever seen."

A comfortable silence fell between the two, and while the unfinished conversation simmered quietly, the odd pair continued their game of checkers. Steve ended up winning the first game, but Thor demanded a rematch, and fairly soon the Asgardian demonstrated that he and Steve were at approximately equal proficiency in checkers.

Steve had won four games, and Thor was in the process of winning his fifth when the golden lights illuminating the capsule that Toushiro lay sleeping in suddenly flashed a bright, pure white. The monitors detailing his heart rate and blood pressure jumped up several points, and an obnoxious alarm sounded, something which sounded like a Klaxon wailing in the empty room. Pounding footsteps echoed in the hallway outside, a rush of palace adrenaline reverberating through the unyielding stone, and without thinking Steve bolted for the pod, as did Thor. The supersoldier put his hand gently on the glass, watching with trepidation as Toushiro's face flickered curiously, his comatose state wavering. The blue lines that streaked up and down his skin like bionic power lines had slowly been fading into white over the course of his month-long sleep, but now they were dimming entirely, revealing the smooth skin beneath. The only holdout was the star/flower-shaped tattoo just over his right eyebrow. Its color had also changed, seemingly an iridescent white which changed color depending on how you looked at it.

Toushiro's brow creased, and his nose wrinkled around the tube leading up into his nostril. He coughed weakly, the tubes trailing down his throat hampering the flow of air. Then he stilled again, his skin emitting a faintly white glow.

The scientist on duty looked up in what seemed to be excitement as they approached, a smile lighting his ageless face.

"He's entering the final stages of metamorphosis!" the scientist shouted over the wail of the alarm. "Molecular fusion is at 99.93%! The computer estimates an approximate forty-five minutes before complete fusion is achieved!"

Steve went completely rigid, and he glanced over at Thor in a sort of panic.

"Thor, I can't get to Heimdall fast enough to get to Earth and tell the others!" He called, watching over his shoulder as Odin, Freya, and Yamamoto entered Toushiro's room. "Can you let the others know!?"

Thor merely nodded; choosing not to yell over the piercing siren, then grabbed his hammer and flew off up the stairs, his red cape billowing in the air behind him. Steve clamped his hands around his ears a few moments later, trying to block out the loud wailing of the alarm. He remained at his post beside the young captain's bedside however, unwilling to abandon the youngest – and second-oldest – of the Avengers.

It took a solid five minutes for the Klaxon alarm to silence itself, and in the time since it had first gone off, at least twelve different Asgardian scientists and doctors had arrived, clustering around the pod's monitoring screens and running long chains of calculations across small tablets which they all carried in their hands. Everyone seemed worried – and for good reason. The Tesseract had taken to its new host easily enough, and Hitsugaya had appeared to be more than capable of handling the transformation initiated by the Tesseract's powers.

The question now was this; what had the change cost him?

The luminous white shimmer clouding over the young shinigami's skin thickened and thinned alternately as the minutes wore by; glowing brightly for one last time before, like the blue of the Tesseract's power had done earlier, fading entirely away.

Thor raced in with five minutes to spare, carrying a panicked-looking Tony under one arm and a collected Natasha under the other. Two shinigami flash-stepped along beside him, one with Clint hanging onto his arm for dear life. Ichigo grinned at Steve, detaching the archer's tight grip from around his biceps.

"We're here, Barton-san." He said, smirking. "No need to act so panicked…"

Clint rolled his eyes and coughed pointedly, dropping down and curling into a tiny ball on the floor.

"You didn't tell me that we were going to practically _teleport_ every few feet!" He snapped back, massaging his temples. "I think I'm going to be sick…"

Matsumoto peered down at him curiously, her face drawn in a wicked smile.

"We did warn you, you know!" she singsonged in the archer's ear. "But you insisted you could handle it!"

Clint groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. Tony and Natasha were smirking at him, a cheerful sort of pleasure surfacing at the sight of their friend's misery.

"I know, don't remind me…" he mumbled, shaking himself off. Steve raised an eyebrow.

"Where's Bruce?" he asked. Clint lifted his head a bit.

"Decided to stay back." He replied weakly, still nauseous from the Shunpo. "He figured the stress of being here wouldn't be good for him."

Then he straightened up, saw the pod for the first time, and approached with nervous footsteps. Steve took a step back to allow the archer to get a good look at the unconscious boy, glancing up at Tony. Any minute now, and the slow fusion of power taking place within Hitsugaya's body would be complete.

"He looks softer than since I last saw him two weeks ago." Clint noted carefully. "He seems more like he's dreaming than unconscious."

The group clustered around, trying to spot the same difference that Barton had so cautiously taken note of. Natasha nodded after a moment, also seeing the change, but nobody else understood what the archer had been talking about. Finally, Thor spoke, his tone somewhat anxious.

"Father…" He called, warily glancing at the colored screen before him, tapping each of seven colored circles shimmering brightly on the screen. "What does this display mean?"

Odin took a close look at the colored data, a slow smile spreading across his lips. The golden eyepatch over his left eye gleamed in the soft white light beaming from the edges of Hitsugaya's capsule.

"It means that our young shinigami friend is quite the powerful young man." He said softly to his son. His expression became serious, and he half-turned, keen glance locking onto Yamamoto, who was waiting with an expectant frown on his wrinkled old face.

"Yamamoto, the Kismet is fully awake in him." Odin said gravely. "The Tesseract drew out its power far better than was expected."

The old shinigami let out a long sigh, his bushy eyebrows bouncing as he made his way toward the capsule in which his youngest captain lay sleeping. A flash of vermilion flame seemed to glint off the long beard.

"Then it seems that our race against time has begun once again." Yamamoto said solemnly. "When Seireitei agreed to dissolve the Kismet into the souls of our citizens, the solution was supposed to be permanent. Ah well. Captain Hitsugaya always did have a way of muddling through impossible situations…"

Odin sighed deeply, a sour smile curling his lips towards the corners of his ears.

"We will have to take precautions with the boy." The Asgardian king mused. "I think it would be best if we left him under Thor's supervision when on Asgard, but the SRD will keep him occupied on Earth, I assume, as will time spent as an Avenger. Of course, all of this is in addition to his usual duties."

Yamamoto considered for a moment, then shot a glance at the supersoldier standing behind him, eye gleaming.

"And perhaps Captain Rogers would consent to keeping an eye on the young man as well." He said slyly. "Captain Hitsugaya is a child in appearance, and he will not be able to function in the human world without a suitable guardian, and he and his Lieutenant have an unusual enough relationship that such a guise will not work for them…"

Steve went pale at the thought.

"Um, with all due respect…" he began sheepishly. "I've already spent seventy years in a deep freeze. I don't want to double that."

Several understanding laughs echoed around the room, and Yamamoto smiled grimly.

"You would not have to worry about such a thing." He said definitively. "Captain Hitsugaya is well aware of his physical appearance and current psychological age despite however much he attempts to deny it. I would speak with him and inform him of the arrangements, should you agree to such a measure."

Tony, Natasha and Clint all exchanged looks, then turned to Steve, identical expressions of wicked determination on their faces. Even Thor appeared to be of the same mindset.

"Steven Grant Rogers." Natasha said sternly, mocking the no-nonsense attitude of a strict kindergarten schoolteacher. The supersoldier groaned, recognizing the tone. "You will not leave that boy by himself, or worse, with _Tony_."

"Oh God, no, bad idea." Steve said hurriedly, the mere thought of how the billionaire would prod at Toushiro chilling his blood to ice. New York would eventually disappear under a glacier, and they'd have to dig the city back out. Stark protested faintly in the background, his face indignant, but Clint shut him up with a sharp elbow to the stomach.

"I give in; I'll play big brother when it's needed." Steve agreed after a moment, "If only to spare Stark and Miss Potts from Toushiro's wrath."

Yamamoto and Odin shared a look a triumph, and with a pang of apprehension Steve realized that he may just have invited disaster. Ah well, he thought. Hitsugaya needed someone to look after him anyhow, if the hilarious stories which Lieutenant Matsumoto had written out for him had any bearing on how he lived on a day to day basis.

Another few minutes passed in silence, and then a soft beeping echoed from Hitsugaya's capsule, the white lights around the edges of his pod dimming, the low hum slowly dying away. The Asgardian scientists looked up from their data screens, grinning widely, though there was also that peculiar tension present.

"He's completed the transformation." One man said, tapping in a gentle sequence onto the luminous keypad. "He's still in the induced coma, but I'm bringing him out now. He should wake for a few minutes, but be careful. He'll be very weak for a several hours."

The pneumatic hiss of the pressurized capsule in which Toushiro lay sounded like the gentle breeze of spring to the eagerly waiting group, and they watched, smiling worriedly, as the glass lid lifted away. For several long minutes nobody said or did anything, only crept closer and watched with gentle faces.

Finally, Matsumoto knelt down by her captain's beside and cupped one cool cheek in the palm of her warm hand, rubbing the pale skin tenderly with her thumb. Toushiro stirred, his breath rising gradually, and the white tubes cocooning him took the opportunity to slide noiselessly from his mouth and nose, unraveling from around his body and sinking back into the fibrous white surface on which the young shinigami slept.

"Taicho?" Matsumoto asked gently. "Are you awake?"

Slowly, the young man drifted back into full consciousness, his heavy eyelids flickering up just enough to reveal that his eyes had resettled on their brilliant jade color. He blinked sluggishly, his tired expression belying the enormous struggle he'd just been through. But then he smiled faintly.

"Matsu…moto." He whispered back to her. His gaze drifted past her, onto Steve and Ichigo and Natasha and all the others who had waited so long for him to wake.

"Every…everyone…" he murmured, his gaze losing his focus. The iridescent white star above his left eyebrow shimmered softly, and then he drifted back off into sleep's encompassing blanket. Matsumoto leaned away in surprise, still stroking her young captain's face, and looked up at Steve and Yamamoto and Thor in some concern.

"I have never seen him this exhausted in all my life." She said seriously. "Even after he'd been through Bankai training. What on Earth did that tiny little stone do to him?"

Odin sighed deeply, then swept the child captain up into a strong embrace, carrying him like one would an infant. Hitsugaya's face did not change, so deeply asleep was he, but he did mumble something incoherent, as if in protest. The Asgardian monarch stared gravely at the buxom lieutenant.

"We should get the young one to a soft bed before I divulge any of that information." Odin said quietly. "You may want to be sitting down when you hear this, and your captain deserves a decent rest after the strain his body was just put through."

Matsumoto nodded mutely, biting down on her protests, and shot a worried glance at Ichigo and Tony as Yamamoto and Odin began to exit the room. However anxious that Odin's grave comment had made them, they managed to keep themselves quiet while the imposing Asgardian king led the shinigami and humans to a neatly-kept, rather sparely furnished room in which a comfortable bed had been centered against the far wall. The bed had been carefully draped in soft white and pale grey blankets and made plush with soft pillows. The care which the Asgardians were taking with the young captain was touchingly generous.

Suddenly, Ichigo paused, turned a careful glance on the carven wardrobe in the corner of the room, then whispered something in Matsumoto's ear. The strawberry-blonde woman stiffened, her blue eyes going wide in surprise.

"Oh, you're right!" she exclaimed. Without warning she darted over to the wardrobe and rummaged through one of the drawers at the base of the ornate piece of furniture until she found something pale green in color. With a nod, she pulled it out of the drawer and hustled over to where her captain had been laid amongst the soft pillows. Nobody said anything to her once they discerned her intention - to redress the sleeping shinigami in more comfortable clothes. Everyone turned their backs when she stripped Hitsugaya of the black bodysuit and folded it at the end of his bed and they did not turn back to look at the lieutenant-captain pair until Matsumoto gave them the go-ahead.

She'd tucked the exhausted (pre)teenager securely under the covers and dressed him in the light green tunic, surrounding him with pillows and warm blankets. He seemed to be sleeping peacefully, and as the group watched the young shinigami shifted and curled himself around one of the larger pillows, burrowing deeper under the coverlet. Steve approached the sleeping boy cautiously, afraid of waking him – because the last time he'd tried that Toushiro had hit him with some weird glowy triangles. Kido, he'd called it.

The supersoldier ruffled the slumbering shinigami's wayward white hair affectionately, then sat down heavily in the chair by Hitsugaya's left. Matsumoto dropped into the armchair at the boy's right, and then both of them leveled a harsh glare at Odin and Yamamoto.

"What are you two hiding?" Steve asked flatly. He didn't feel like playing any games. "What did the Tesseract do to Toushiro, and why do you seem so worried about it? What aren't you saying? You've kept dropping all sorts of hints, but nothing is clear."

Yamamoto sighed, leaning back, and shot a wary look at Odin from the corner of his eye. It seemed both were debating on what to say and what to keep hidden, the flickering quality of their expressions cleanly supporting such a conclusion. Slowly, Tony, Natasha, Thor, Clint, Ichigo, and Freya also sat, waiting almost impatiently for the Asgardian or the shinigami to speak. Only Freya seemed subdued, her intimidating stare for once locked onto the tiled floor. So she knew as well, Steve thought.

Finally, Yamamoto broke the silence, and when he did the atmosphere of the room instantly changed from expectant to grim.

"Have you ever heard of the Infinity Stones, Captain Rogers?"

* * *

Please tell me what you think!

Also...due to the results of the poll thus far, it looks like I'll be making a few oneshots to accompany this universe. If you want to put your opinion out there, go vote!

~avtorSola


	14. White Kismet

**A/N:** Last Chapter! Yay! Thanks to all who read/reviewed!

The next part is only 4 chapters in, but it looks like it may be twice as long as Crash-landed. It may be a few months before I can start to post it (I don't post until I'm 90% done, so...)

Also! Based on the results of the poll, I WILL be writing shorts to accompany this. If you want to send prompts, please do so in sets of three to five, with a MAX of ten per person. If you want to write shorts, go ahead (max 4,000 words, please?)! You can PM me with either prompts or the shorts/oneshots. if you have any questions, please PM me!

Now, enjoy the last chapter! :D

* * *

"Have you ever heard of the Infinity Stones, Captain Rogers?" Yamamoto asked, his tone low and dangerous. Fire flashed in the old general's glare, but Steve wouldn't let himself quail – he needed to know what had happened to Toushiro.

Towards the edge of the group, Thor went very pale, his eyes widening. The term was obviously quite familiar to him, then, but it seemed only he, his parents, and Yamamoto currently were aware of such a term.

"No sir." Steve replied, his tone as polite as ever, though a hint of irritation belied his worry over Toushiro's wellbeing.

Yamamoto nodded, his beard coiling like a snake as it settled into his lap. His wrinkled old face was curiously grim.

"Then you must entirely trust what we say is true." He warned in his gruff I'm-an-old-man-so-you-have-to-deal-with-my-bullshit tone. "It won't be easy for you to believe."

Tony raised an eyebrow at that, scoffing lightly.

"With all due respect, we're all sitting in the home of the Norse gods." He snarked, rolling his eyes. "And the kiddo there is actually older than Capsicle, and he's dead. So in the past few months, we've all suddenly discovered that yes, aliens are real; yes, the Norse gods are real; and yeah, I'm probably going to hell, because there _is_ an afterlife and I'm an atheist. What could possibly be less believable than all of that?"

The billionaire yawned exaggeratedly, then glanced around the room to find his Avenger colleagues nodding at him in varying states of concurrence, so he settled for sighing pointedly. Odin just stared at the man for a moment in a state of disbelief, and then gestured loosely to Thor, the only one shaking his head.

"Tony Stark, you do not know what you speak of." He rebuked, his tone as subdued as his mother's expressions. "The six Infinity Stones were created when the universe was formed, and each possesses incredible power – enough to destroy planets wholly. The Tesseract is one of these six Stones. When combined, the six Stones create the Infinity Gauntlet, a device so powerful that it can obliterate half of the universe in one blow. One has to have an iron will and a physical makeup sterner than even mine to properly wield any of the Infinity Stones."

Steve halfway rose to his feet, panic flashing across his face as he turned towards the unconscious young man, still asleep in the bed. Everyone present remembered how the blue stone contained within the Tesseract had merged with Toushiro, and Natasha and Matsumoto also seemed ready to leap from their chairs.

"Sit down, Captain Rogers." Yamamoto ordered sharply. "Captain Hitsugaya is in no danger from the Stone, for reasons I will explain in a moment."

Unwillingly, the supersoldier pressed himself back into his chair, listening on a hair-trigger reflex. For a moment, all was quiet, the tension in the air thick enough to swim through. Then Odin picked up the conversation, his voice dispassionate.

"As stated before, there are six Stones, each with a different symbolic color." He explained. "The Tesseract is the Space Stone, which is blue. The others are similar in this manner, and each possesses powers in accordance with its name. Thus, the Space Stone can create wormholes in the fabric of space-time."

"The others are as follows - The Mind Stone is yellow, the Reality Stone is red, the Power Stone is purple, the Soul Stone is green, and the Time Stone is orange." Odin continued. Suddenly, his voice became very quiet. "Each of the stones is a highly coveted, highly destructive weapon. A great many races would do anything to gain one of the Infinity Stones, and for that reason they were sealed away millions of years ago and hidden all across the universe. However, the primary reason for their sealing was the Infinity Gauntlet – the most powerful weapon in existence."

Steve leaned back in his chair as Tony interjected, his tone curious.

"So that's why we need to protect the kid?" he asked. "Because some more alien baddies could come after him and kill him to get the Tesseract?"

"No, Mr. Stark." Yamamoto said solemnly. "Captain Hitsugaya has become the Seventh and final of the Infinity Stones. He will be taken alive if he is captured at all, and then he will be tortured until he breaks and our enemies are able to use him as they will. As of right now…Captain Hitsugaya is the only individual able to form the completed Infinity Gauntlet."

A heavy silence fell over the room and suddenly everyone became very, very aware of the slow rise and fall of Toushiro's lean chest as he breathed, of the softened edges of his young face and the burgeoning sweet innocence that wavered delicately among the ice of his features. Suddenly he seemed so fragile, so vulnerable that it was unbearable. Matsumoto swallowed hard, her heart fluttering in her mouth.

"The…Seventh Stone?" she asked quietly. Yamamoto nodded wearily.

"The Seventh Stone is simultaneously the most and least powerful of the Stones." He said, his cane gripped tightly in veined hands. "It is called the Kismet Stone, the white stone. Its power…is something like rebirth. With the Kismet Stone, one can end the universe and immediately recreate it, much in the same way as the lives of human souls end and they are reborn as citizens of Soul Society. Many thousands of years ago I consented to taking the Kismet Stone for safekeeping, and with Odin's aid I shattered the Stone and dispersed its power evenly amongst the souls in Seireitei. It is one reason that other alien races fear the shinigami so – each of us has the mark of the Kismet Stone somewhere upon our souls, and our reiatsu has gradually adapted to its presence, becoming more like the powers of the Infinity Stones."

Yamamoto sighed deeply then.

"However, every few centuries, a soul or two would appear with a higher concentration of the Seventh Stone in their blood, and they would always possess two identifying characteristics which never failed to correspond with the Stone's presence in them." His dark gaze became very serious. "These few souls were always Memory Sentinels, and they always had an abnormal physical characteristic linking them to the Kismet Stone."

Matsumoto gasped, understanding suddenly, and then it clicked with everyone else as well.

The Kismet Stone was _white._

Toushiro's _hair_ was white. And he was a Memory Sentinel, the most powerful in Soul Society's history.

"Oh my God…" Matsumoto whispered, floored by the insinuation. Yamamoto observed her keenly.

"Did you not think that it was odd that I ordered your captain to take charge of our temporary alliance with SHIELD to foil Loki's plan?" he asked, raising a brow. "It was true that I disliked the grudge he held, but even I would not go so far as to force him to work alongside those he detests without sufficient reason."

"He's the _only_ one among the shinigami that could have countered the Tesseract's beam the way he did, isn't he? His power is the most compatible." she asked. Yamamoto inclined his head once.

"Correct, Matsumoto-fukutaicho." He approved gravely, peering at the Avengers pityingly. They still seemed to not fully comprehend the severity of Toushiro's situation. "And because he is the most compatible, the Tesseract has fully revitalized the Kismet Stone's power in him. However, the power of rebirth is not the only power which it wields. There is a reason that only he can form the Infinity Gauntlet now."

Odin nodded, agreeing wordlessly with Yamamoto's warnings, and sighed.

"He – the Kismet Stone – is a sentient Stone, which sets it above all the other Stones." He said then. "And because of that sentience, the other Stones will now yield their power to him alone. His intelligence will gradually give them rise to their own consciousnesses, as you saw a month ago, but even so the Kismet Stone's ability to restart the entire universe overrides any power which the other Stones have. Thus he will be targeted. Because whoever controls him…"

"…Controls the rest of the Infinity Stones and from there can conquer the entire universe with the Infinity Gauntlet." Steve finished grimly. "Lovely."

Clint wolf-whistled and leaned back in his chair.

"Damn." He said bluntly, glancing at Steve. "Talk about a problem child. How on Earth can we keep him safe?"

Odin fixed the archer with a hard look.

"We can't tell him any of this." He said decisively. "Not until we know for certain that the enemies of the Kismet are aware of it's revival in his bloodstream. We need to keep him focused on training himself to use the powers of the Infinity Stones and his other abilities. If he finds out about how dangerous his situation is, he may panic, and inadvertently send a whiplash of the Kismet's power throughout the known universe and into the places where even the Bifrost Bridge cannot reach. That will almost certainly alert any enemies to his current state. And if he is not ready for them…"

Natasha nodded calmly, understanding the monarch's point of view effortlessly.

"Keeping him ignorant of the danger will keep him relatively safe until we can figure out a way to break the news to him." she commented, summarizing the Asgardian's logic without blinking. "It's a good plan, save one minor flaw. He's Level 10+, and one of thirteen top-ranked officers in your realm. If we make any sort of hard-copy plan or digital plan through SHIELD of Seireitei, he'll be able to access it. And on top of that, he appears to have some skill with technology. My guess is that he'll be able to figure out how to hack quite easily. Therefore, any records will have to be kept on Asgard, under lock and key. And a hard copy is likely the safest form of such a plan."

Odin nodded in understanding, his keen glance approving, and shot Yamamoto a sly look.

"Fury, Yamamoto-soutaicho, and I will see what we can come up with, and the Avengers will be duly informed, as will you, Matsumoto-fukutaicho." He said calmly. "Until we can decide how to inform the young captain of his situation, we must remain silent, however. Say nothing!"

The Avengers nodded, as did Matsumoto. Ichigo bit his lip, then reluctantly agreed as well.

"He's not going to be happy when he finds out we've been keeping this from him." he said anxiously, his voice soft. "And he's going to be doubly unhappy when he discovers that we're babysitting him."

Yamamoto made no reply for several long moments, and when he spoke his voice was measured and slow.

"Captain Hitsugaya will do one of two things when he is informed of his situation, Kurosaki Ichigo." He said levelly, his tone unyielding. "He will either yield to my orders and accept that he will no longer be without a competent guard, or he will refuse, which will lead to his arrest and incarceration in the Maggot's Nest on charges of reckless behavior and insubordination. If he resists further, I **will** authorize the use of excessive physical violence to keep him subdued."

The Avengers looked horrified at the grim threat in the old shinigami's voice, and even Matsumoto appeared faint. Odin shot the elderly shinigami a surprised, shocked glance.

"You'd resort to torturing a child?" Odin said in disbelief. Yamamoto's stare was flinty.

"Captain Hitsugaya has been the one holding a whip before." He retorted harshly. "Despite his youth, he is still the captain in control of all internal investigation which goes on inside Seireitei's walls. That involves interrogation, and Soul Society is a far more brutal place than the human world. He understands what happens to uncooperative prisoners in our realm. However, it is only a last resort, should all else prove unable to convince him. He cannot be allowed to fall into enemy hands!"

Steve shot to his feet, his rarely-provoked temper ignited by the sharp rebuttal. But when he spoke, though his face was stormy, his tone was unusually calm.

"How can you force him to do that?" he asked stiffly. "He's a child!"

Yamamoto shook his head, suddenly solemn once again, but it was Matsumoto who spoke.

"Hitsugaya-taicho died very young, Rogers-san. He was murdered in one of your wars." She said quietly. "Before you point fingers at us, ask yourself this; how can your kin kill children?"

The Avengers stiffened in surprise at the loaded question, and Matsumoto sighed deeply, her tone now somewhat offended.

"And shame on you for automatically thinking that my taicho is the one who conducts those sorts of interrogations." She said pointedly. "My Captain and I have an established repartee when it comes to uncooperative prisoners – He's the sweet little boy who can set the inmate in question free, and I'm the devil who comes and beats them into the ground should they need it. Most of the time my captain sweet-talks or manipulates them into cooperating. True, he has been the one delivering blows before, but he's much kinder than I am despite that icy scowl of his."

Slowly, the stigma arisen in the Avengers' accusing stares lessened, a sort of wary dislike replacing the outright indignation. Natasha alone seemed to understand Matsumoto's explanation, and she alone appeared appeased by it. Matsumoto then shot Yamamoto an angry glare.

"Though I do happen to agree with them on the subject of my captain." She said irately. "Threatening to imprison him is one thing if it's for his own safety. Torturing him is entirely another. I'd like to see that one get past Unohana-taicho, or either Kyouraku-taicho or Ukitake-taicho."

Yamamoto glared at the buxom lieutenant, his old glare taut with displeasure.

"Know your place, Lieutenant." He snapped. Matsumoto's look was flinty, but her voice was soft.

"My place is at my captain's back." She murmured softly. "I will do whatever is needed to protect him, as Sasakibe-fukutaicho would do for you."

The old man turned his face away, appeased by the response, and the room fell silent. Hitsugaya shifted in his sleep, nuzzling his face into the plush pillows, his lips murmuring soft nonsense words. Everyone turned to look at him, gazes softening – even Yamamoto's. Then his voice cleared, just enough to whisper one single, echoing phrase.

"Dvaoudar…"

* * *

 _One by one, he saw the stars flash and fade out._

 _His stone cell was blacker than the compressed whirlpools of gravity bending spacetime around his prison, but nonetheless he knew where he was and what surrounded him. The light of the distant Suns were superfluous, he knew, unnecessary flashes of arrogance and power in an otherwise peaceful world. Even the dark matter comprising his prison was annoying to him, a nuisance in its contrariety. Why was there a need for such a place, a need for such haphazard construction?_

 _What he could build would far outstrip such organic design…_

 _The darkness cleared suddenly, and he stiffened, lifting a pointed nose to scent the breezeless, airless wind blowing from all the distant suns. He'd heard it then, a mere murmur in the endless gloom of the iced wastes through which he drifted. But it had been there and been audible, an unmistakable naming. Something had restarted the eon-long struggle; reignited the power of Seven. He smiled then, strangely, a twisted droop in his leathery, burnscaled thorax._

 _What a nice name…_

 _"_ _Dvaoudar." He mulled the word over in between pointed teeth, smiling manically. Where had he heard that before?_

 _Ah, yes…it was his own name, from ages long past, when the young man with scars on his face and a sword of sunfire illuminated all of the eternal night. Odin had been but a young man then, yet still as strong as ever._

 _He could still remember the pulse of white power in their hands, and the hungry lust he'd felt for it. With that he could have realized his vision. But then he was sealed with its voracious power, the white bonds of Fate dragging him down, screaming. His conquerors were kind enough to seal him darkness, and in thanks for that he would not torture them to death._

 _But that had been their mistake. And now he had powerful servants, eager to please him with half of the universe as their offerings. Dvaoudar threw his head back and laughed, long and crazed, as the cage around him began to crack. With the Seven restored, he was free. Long strands of saliva dribbled from poisonous teeth, and he howled madly, reveling carelessly on the other side of the universe._

 _"_ _Death has risen!"_

* * *

~Owari~


	15. PSA

**A/N:**  
My oneshot/drabble collection is now online! It's called Flashes of Color. It also contains a preview of Part 2!

(I apologize for the A/N)  
~avtorSola


	16. Author's Note

**Author's Note**

Hello, dear readers. I just wanted to let you know that in the near future, the _Power of Seven_ will be officially off hiatus. I know it's been a long time since it was updated - but no more. My muse has returned.  
On another note, I would be much obliged if you would take a look at the poll on my profile. It's to decide which of my stories will be posted after the _Power of Seven_ and probable sequel is complete. Thank you very much.  
See you all soon!  
~avtorSola


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